


Into Darkness

by Amandasfire



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:48:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 72,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25703071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amandasfire/pseuds/Amandasfire
Summary: Following the 2019-2020 X-Men and X-Force canon; mutantkind has put it's faith in Krakoa. Resurrection is possible. In the name of "make more mutants" and mutant solidarity, Jean & Scott have decided to open up their marriage. It all sounds idealistic, doesn't it..? (Jean/Logan, Scott/Emma, and of course a little quadrangle in there). This is specifically a series of chronologic vignettes, told first person POV, by Jean.
Relationships: Jean Grey/Logan (X-Men)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 23





	1. NIGHT 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Note:**   
>  _All right all right. Yes, X-Force #10 dragged me back, how could it not? This little series was inspired by what I've been waiting for, what I grew up wanting as a kid, then as a teenager, then as an adult for the last twenty freakin' years (took long enough)– the real Jean/Logan hookup in canon! YASSSS! It finally happened and yeah it made me happy enough to keep writing. So the premise here is that in the comics, we get everything that happens in the daylight. The Jean/Scott/Logan/Emma quadrangle/poly whatever has been all but confirmed. And because I'm the author here and therefore the boss I've decided that this originally was a Krakoa-philosophy based hall pass arrangement between Scott and Jean that is evolving into...well, we shall see. I've always wanted Marvel to give us a real relationship between Jean and Logan because, well- I think it would be interesting, volatile, hot, and it would eventually work. Soooo this is a series of vignettes that only takes place at night, chronologically, and will follow along with the whole X-Men/X-Force current canon. Jean first person, starting from Jean & Logan's first night, and we'll take it from there. Yeah we'll get to the whole accidental stabbing, yeah we'll get to the hot tub sexy times (cough, oh excuse me, broken baths), yeah, yeah, of course we will, that's the point y'all. _

**NIGHT 1**

The first night was a complete disaster. I mean, it's actually funny looking back on it because we know each other so much better now and so much has happened since then, but in hindsight it was a trainwreck. The first time, our first time, happened way too fast. Too fast is relative, of course, because we'd both been thinking about it for over a decade, but when it happened…it was a spark that jumped, caught fire and set off a bomb and neither of us was ready for it. At least I wasn't.

Even though we'd been fighting together on X-Force and in the light of day among teammates it was all business as usual, when we met that first night everything became suddenly awkward. We glanced at each other like two nervous kids. I wasn't myself at all, feeling skittish and unsure, and it was probably the first and the last time I'll ever see Logan sweating bullets, tripping over his own feet like a teenager at prom. Neither one of us even touched the food we'd ordered, it just sat there cold while we stared at each other and tried to make small talk. Logan was drinking even more than usual-his favorite coping mechanism- and if it weren't for the healing factor he probably would've been under the table before we'd even finished the date. I was trying to be witty, but my usual confidence floundered and I stuttered when I spoke. I almost even got cold feet. I considered throwing down my napkin and leaving, just to end the anxiety. It somehow made it worse that we both knew what we were really there for. It was electricity in the air, it was not being able to look him in the eye, it was his fingers touching mine and my pulse suddenly pounding in my throat.

We walked back to my room in silence and he made the first move, whiskey on his breath. I'd been waiting for it, but he still caught me off guard. I was in the middle of a sentence, saying hey wasn't it an unusually cold night for June, and he leaned in to kiss me. I didn't stop him, I just froze as our lips met, and then I kissed back, and then we detonated. It went from an innocent kiss to a high speed car crash, an avalanche, an atom bomb. It was intense and furious, no more hesitance, no more flirting, no innuendo, from zero to one-twenty. Just like that, the clothes were on the floor, his hands were in my hair, our limbs tangled. Neither of us said a word, and we were trying hard to be quiet because Scott was next door, but that ended up being the farthest thing from my mind. There was just the sound and sensation of skin, breathing, sweat and pleasure. I guess after ten years of wanting each other, long years of teasing and baiting, if you finally put a flame near the powder keg you shouldn't be surprised when it explodes- but truthfully, I wasn't ready. Not even close.

When we finally pulled finally pulled apart, gasping, in the middle of an empty bed, the covers, sheets, and pillows strewn haphazardly on the floor all around, I felt shell-shocked. As the chemical high of adrenaline and endorphins and dopamine sang through my body and began to fade away, I was suddenly confused and guilty. I was overwhelmed by the way my body was buzzing like a live wire and my head was spinning and I couldn't quite grasp what we'd just done.

I still cringe when I remember this part, but for the sake of honesty; I ended up hiding in the bathroom. I pulled away from him, avoiding his startled gaze, left him there and slammed the door behind me. I turned around hugging my knees and pressed my back against the door, mind racing. I'm embarrassed, thinking of it now, but it was genuine at the time. Logan, of course, was completely horrified and I could hear his fist banging on the door, the desperate contrition in his voice as he asked if he had done something wrong, had he hurt me, was I ok, he was so sorry, please tell him what was wrong? Jeannie please let me in. Jeannie please, I'm sorry, just tell me what's wrong. I ignored it.

I sat there naked on the floor, the cold tiles pressed against the soles of my feet back, my brain feeling like it had melted, butterflies in my stomach, my heart still pounding and a warm feeling like sunshine inside my body from a really good and long overdue orgasm. I remember that all I wanted in that moment was to run and tell Scott I was so sorry, cry, beg him on my knees to forgive me. It was ludicrous, because he'd told me to go do all this in the first place. It was the opposite of all the other times Logan and I had come close to being intimate; those stolen kisses, those dramatic end-of-the-world embraces that I'd ignored afterwards because it was more convenient to pretend they never happened. And it had never been scary like this because there was never a chance it would go anywhere. It was always safe. Until now, and the taste of danger that had been so exciting was suddenly terrifying.

And this time, ironically, I'd had Scott's blessing. I had explicit permission. I realized I mostly felt guilty that I'd done it out of curiosity, an itch I'd wanted to scratch, but then I'd liked it a little too much. I replayed what had happened, that one gratifying instant with Logan inside me, our bodies pressed together, his dark hair fisted in my hand and my nails dug into his back, when I'd been ready to do anything for him. For just a brief second I'd felt it, and I hoped I hadn't said it. I hoped I hadn't thought it out loud. Anything. And I didn't want to admit it, but I'd never felt that for Scott. That just didn't seem like that was something a wife should feel for someone who wasn't her husband. So I sat there, shivering, head pressed in my hands, tears dripping off my face and splashing little salty dots onto the sea green tile, replaying the way we melted together with shame then with pleasure, then again, like a film on repeat that I couldn't stop. Savage and beautiful, yes. Everything I'd wanted, yes. But it was so wrong. I shouldn't have given in. I shouldn't have betrayed Scott, not like that, even if he'd said it was all right. I cringed. I smiled. I panicked. I tried to hold it all together because it felt like everything inside me was flying apart.

It must've been a good fifteen minutes that I sat there perfectly still with all off this turmoil rolling through my mind, before I'd pulled myself together. Logan had finally stopped trying and was silent. I wasn't even sure if he was still there; maybe he'd left. Maybe he'd given up on this. Maybe he was the kind of man who doggedly pursued what he wanted, and then once he got it, was gone. That was one of my deepest fears. That was why I agreed, as Scott Summer's wife, to take a lover. So I could still have a little bit of that safety I craved while I went after something else I might have wanted more.

I finally pulled myself together, took a few deep breaths, and splashed some cold water on my face. I opened the door, and the weak light from the bathroom fixtures spilled into the room. I saw Logan sitting on the side of the bed, jeans on, head in his hands. My heart softened, a bit. Logan didn't leave. My fears, maybe they were baseless. But my chance, my chance was still now. I walked over, I took his face in my hands, and I showed him it was all right. He asked "Jeannie I—" and I stopped him with my mouth, and I shushed him, and I told him stay. We didn't say another word that night, and we didn't sleep until the sun was up.

NEXT: Night 2. 'Nuff said.


	2. NIGHT 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Second night, party's just getting started._

**NIGHT 2**

The second night was different.

Logan had asked if that was okay, with the arrangement, if he came back two nights in a row. I'd laughed nervously and shrugged, because it wasn't really planned out like that. Scott certainly wasn't beating down my door begging for my company, so why not? Sure. I liked companionship, and Logan was a pretty damn good companion. He had a good sense of humor, he definitely didn't mind dirty jokes, he didn't take offense if I spoke my mind, he was full of interesting eclectic facts and stories. We didn't even end up having sex the second night, in part because I was still pretty sore, but also because we were busy enjoying everything else. Okay, true, I hadn't really had a marathon like yesterday since...probably my wedding night, which was legitimately several lifetimes away at this point, and as much as my mind wanted to repeat it my body told me to hold up a minute. I reminded Logan when he walked in the door that we didn't all have healing factors. He took the hint right away, and I was surprised that he didn't seem to care. In fact, that night, he seemed happier than I'd ever seen him before, and it was…well, it was strange. But it was strange in a good way. I started to think that maybe I liked this strange, happy Logan, even if it was almost bizarre to see it at first. It was a man I didn't know all that well, to be honest, and I wanted to find out who he was, behind all that angst and baggage and constant burden. It surprised me just how well we got along.

We ended up talking, and talking, and talking some more. It sounds cliché, but we lay on the bed together, lazy and half naked, a bag of sunflower seeds that we kept passing back and forth. Logan's arm was over my shoulder, my head against his bare chest, and it was simple and comfortable and good. We laughed over the absurdity of memories from missions past, how much things had evolved, how people had changed. At some point the hours grew late and the conversation grew more serious, and I wept over the colleagues and innocence we'd lost. He held me against him without saying a word. We kissed, reveling in how new it still felt, and how now we could do it whenever we wanted. No imminent death required. He leaned in. Then I leaned in. Then our lips touched, slid together, slow like honey. He kept his eyes closed while he kissed me, all his attention on me, and it was addictive. We littered the floor with sunflower seeds; it made me smile imagining just how upset Scott would've been with any kind of mess. We'd had a strict rule of no food in the bed. I liked breaking it. I realized I liked breaking rules, maybe a little more than I'd ever admitted. And I realized I had a lot to say, so much I wanted to get off my chest, and just having someone here to listen was like being under the influence of a drug. I wanted more. And Logan was happy to oblige.

The hours slipped by wrapped up in conversation, and wrapped up in each other. It was that funny giddy feeling where every word coming out of your mouth just spills out so easily, one tripping over the other trying to express every thought at once, and you're on the same wavelength and you just don't want to stop. I think this was the night I found out Logan was actually quite capable of talking a blue streak, when he wants to. The strong silent type by day, sure, but I remember that night he was full of stories; things I'd never heard of before, scandalous, heartbreaking, horrifying, fascinating stories. And funny. Who knew Logan was that funny. I remember laughing so hard I cried.

"It's late," Logan mentioned, at some point, lazily aiming a sunflower seed at the water glass beside my bed and flicking it. He missed, shrugged. "Ya want me to go?"

"You have somewhere better to be?" I countered.

He grinned. He threw a sunflower seed at me. I stopped it mid-air and popped it in my mouth.

"Show off," he growled, still smiling.

At some point I took down a bottle of cheap wine off the shelf and he uncorked it with one claw. "Now who's the show off? You trying to impress somebody?" I teased him, and he smirked back at me, and we split it evenly though Logan had told me he couldn't stand the stuff—he didn't seem to mind that night because it was gone in thirty minutes and I felt woozy and happy and warm and I ran my mouth more than I should have.

I even talked about Scott, and he didn't seem to mind. He just seemed happy to hold me. And dear god, how long had it been since someone had just wanted to hold me like that. I'd been missing something terribly I didn't even know I needed.

I started questioning myself. Is that what being in love feels like, I mused? Or was it infatuation? Or was it just that I'd been so lonely before and finally finding someone who wanted to listen to me, wanted to be here, felt so damn good.

We fell asleep around the sunrise, Logan spooned against my back. I had one solid arm over my ribs, I could feel him breathing on my shoulder. There, in the quiet of morning, with the first glow of light playing against the curtains of my window, I wondered. What would be this be like to have every day. What if this wasn't some little fantasy I was being gifted, what if this was my life? What if this was... our life? Long ago, I'd chosen Scott. It was a conscious choice, head not heart. I wanted a man who was stable, respectable, a family man. That's what I thought I was getting. That's what the front of the package said, so to speak. And now, feeling alive for the first time in years, I wondered. What if I had made different choices, so long ago. I wondered, and curled against the heat of Logan's body, I slept.

When I woke up, I found him gone. He knew the deal, we all did, and he didn't want to overstep his bounds. I understood, even if I was a little disappointed. I woke up slightly hungover, with a sour taste in my mouth, lonely and irritated but with some heady mixture of confusion and happiness. My head pounded as the sunlight burnt my eyes, but I felt something alive in me that I hadn't felt in a long time. Uncertainty, but under that, I felt the odd tingle of hope.

**Next:** _Night 3. Oh you wanted drama? Okay, you better duck, comin' at ya._


	3. NIGHT 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Always darkness before the light. As I said, this is following canon, and the events in Wolverine #1, specifically Logan accidentally murdering his teammates as he is wont to do often (Marvel, why are you so cruel), has definitive emotional consequences._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Warning:** There is a somewhat graphic depiction of violence/character death and angst, only because I'm being true to the narrative. Keep your chin up, this is the X-Men and death is never permanent. And I am of course probably the biggest Jean/Logan shipper on the planet so don't get too discouraged when it goes off the rails, you'll get what you came for. _

**NIGHT 3**

Something terrible happened.

Something that, in retrospect, changed us. There was no way it couldn't have.

Logan killed me.

He'd stabbed me. Of course, he hadn't meant to. He hadn't known what he was doing. He'd been tricked, fallen victim to an illusion. I knew that, and I knew with all my heart he'd never hurt me on purpose.

But the memories existed, after. They echoed in my mind. That feeling of disbelief and betrayal sat like a lead weight in my chest.

Things had been going fine right up until the point when it happened; Quentin, Domino and I had gotten a communication from Hank to intercept Wolverine. He'd gone AWOL, not all that unusual for him, and we were there to find him and bring him home. There was nothing suspicious, nothing to trigger the red flags in my mind until I actually saw him, face to face.

He turned towards us, sniffed, and surveyed us with a look that was pitch black. It was as if he didn't recognize who were.

"Logan?" I'd asked, voice faltering.

Quentin and Domino looked at each other, but they were following my lead in this. I was the telepath, after all. So we stood there, blind prey, unaware of what was about to take place.

We were face to face in the snow, maybe ten feet apart. His glare was mindless and my fears became certainty; he had no idea who I was, where he was, and I could tell he wasn't holding back. I knew he was going to attack right before it happened. I could tell by his body language and by the way his mind went dark, switching off the human part and tuning in instead into that driven instinct to kill. It happened quickly, but not so fast I couldn't have signaled Quentin and Domino to defend themselves.

I didn't. The responsibility to protect my teammates was mine, and I failed. I failed and we all paid for my mistake. Me, probably most of all.

The moment before it happened, a base fear shot down my spine, the fear of pray as it's cornered by the predator. The fear that has no rational grounds but permeates every cell of your body, taking over every conscious thought and telling you to run, run, run. I am hardly defenseless; my power, nearly limitless. I could have stopped him, or at least slowed him down. But instead, like an idiot, I kept hoping. I kept hoping he would fight it, that he wouldn't go through with this, and in the end I waited a second too long.

There I stood, the crunch of snow now quiet under my boots, frozen in fear and trepidation and rapidly waning hope as he attacked my teammates. His teammates. It was so fast, and so brutal. I was holding my hands out, tears running down my face as he'd charged at me, and without hesitation, eviscerated me. As I felt myself being lifted into the air with the force of his rage, I saw the beast in his eyes, that cold stare of hatred as if I were a stranger. Worse, an enemy. He'd never looked at me like that before, never. Not even when we'd faced each other down in battle. It was foreign, terrifying. I felt his claws, hot pain slide violently through my stomach. I felt the life ebb away, and as I did I saw a horrible recognition on his face.

He knew. I was still alive for that terrible second that the illusion released his grip on him and he knew, understood what he'd done. The sadness, the horror in his eyes as he gently laid my body down and my world turned black.

I heard him say my name.

I died there in the snow, but not before releasing one final burst of TK energy, to take him out. To take him down. Because at that moment I wanted him dead too. I wanted him dead, for what he'd failed to do.

Then my soul departed as my broken body lay there in a snowbank, crimson soaking into the crisp white all around us as my heart slowed, down to a single thud, and stopped.

I died, and they brought me back again. 

You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but it's never easy. And being resurrected didn't change what had happened. As I emerged from my pod, coughing up the thick honey colored liquid, my body sticky and dripping with nectar, my mind slowly blinking back to life I remembered it all, and my stomach dropped.

My vague awareness of being alive transitioned in a fully functioning mind and body, and I knew where I was and why I was there. I looked around in the dimly lit area.

Scott was there, standing silently by as I regained consciousness and found my bearings, forcing air into my fledgling lungs, blinking my eyes, figuring out how to move my sleepy, heavy hands and feet again. He waited silently next to me, and when I had staggered to my feet he handed me a towel. He helped me back to my room. He didn't say a word, and he left afterwards, and I was grateful for both of those things.

I spent the day in bed. I didn't feel like going out or getting up. Scott called to me once, asked if I needed help and I told him _no_ , in his head. I didn't even want to speak out loud. I felt cold, I felt numb and flat. Depression. Like the idea of even moving was too tiring to endure. I was dreading seeing Logan again, the thought of him, those cold eyes, giving me chills. And then I remembered how we were that last night before this mistake-- his tenderness, hit attentiveness, the way he held me... and part of me still missed him. It didn't make any sense at all and I lay there, face flat against the mattress, wishing that I had never started any of this. Why the hell couldn't we have left well enough alone. I slept through all the waking hours.

Late that night, Logan knocked on my door. I thought about not answering but in the end I got up, and I opened it. We were going to have to face each other eventually.

I stood there in the frame, face expressionless, boiling inside. His head was down, face obscured by shadow.

We both stood, unmoving. I didn't know what to say to him. I was angry, I was so angry, and I was hurt. He was sorry, and he was hurting too. I could see it, and I could feel it, he was drenched in it, covered in it like a psychic thundercloud I could've sensed a mile away. It was impossible to be within a few feet of him and not know it, it was projecting so strongly.

"I would never hurt ya Jeannie, God, I'm so sorry," he started, stopped. He was pleading with me. "You gotta believe me—I—If I knew it was you, I never—"

"But you did!" I yelled back at him, voice breaking. "I don't care if you didn't mean to. You still did it!"

"I'm sorry-"

"I don't care!" I cried.

I shoved him, although it was like pushing a brick wall. 300lbs of solid adamantium isn't that easy to intimidate. Logan stood there without reacting. Saying nothing. There was nothing he could say, and nothing he could do to make this better. Not right now. And I wasn't done, no, not by a long shot. The rage, the pain that I had inside me swelled. The betrayal, the betrayal that his love for me wasn't enough to break the illusion, that it wasn't enough to stop him, that he hadn't been the hero I needed just when I had started to put my faith, my trust in him.

"You killed me, Logan!" I cried, my face inches from him, watching him flinch as the words fell on him like acid. "Do you know how that felt? Do you know how it felt to die like that? Because of you?"

"Jeannie I swear to you, I swear I never—"

I slapped him, hard across the face. He stood there motionless like he wanted it.

"Fuck you!" I yelled, tears streaming down my face. "Fuck you, I thought we—I thought we meant more than that. I thought I meant something to you. I fucking hate you Logan!"

It felt good to say the words, get it off my chest. My hands were balled so tightly into fists I could feel my nails cutting into the skin of my palms.

"Hurt me," he yelled back at me, almost a roar.

"What?" I said.

"Hurt me, make me feel whatever I made you feel, hell, kill me Jeannie, I deserve it. I deserve it. I fucked up, it's never gonna change, kill me."

I almost wanted to. I almost wanted to do exactly that, gut him back, make him understand how much pain he had caused me. Physically, yes it was a horrible sensation, dying is never pleasant and I've done it enough to be considered an expert by now. But mentally, it was the way it made me feel about him, about us, that was hurting me so much.

I gathered psychic energy, my TK, into my hands. I did want to kill him in that moment. I wanted him to hurt. I could imagine it, the energy coursing through his body, destroying him. Wiping him off this earth the way he'd done to me.

"Jus' put me out of my misery," he said, voice low, without an ounce of sarcasm.

I hesitated.

No. No, I could never do that to him. 

I don't know if he started crying first or I did.

A wave of sympathy, combined with my anger, and I didn't know whether I wanted to murder him, or kiss him, or fuck him, or tell him I never wanted to see him again.

I stepped into his arms, and he held me back and he embraced me tightly, like a drowning man holding onto a life preserver.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered into my hair.

We sat on the bed, and he asked, "What do we do now?"  
I told him I didn't know.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked.

I told him again, I didn't know.

We sat there in silence.

"Is this… over?" he asked.

Leave it to Logan to get straight to the point. I stared off to my right, at the blank bedroom wall. I hadn't decorated since I'd been here. Things had been moving too fast, and now...this.

"No," I said softly. "It's not over. But I don't know what it is. I need time."

Logan hung his head. Part of me wished I could said something more comforting, or more final, but honesty was hard enough.

We sat there in silence.

"I should go," he finally said.

I didn't disagree, I didn't stop him. _Here it is, Logan leaving,_ a part of me thought bitterly. _There he goes, that didn't take long._ At the same time I realized how ridiculous I was being. He was trying to give me space, which I obviously needed to process something like this. But to a little part of me it still felt like an abandonment.

Logan got up, turned from me. He didn't say anything else to me. He left the room, closed the door behind him.

I sat on my bed too tired, too angry, too hurt to cry.

And when I dreamed, I remembered the searing pleasure of that first night when we came together, my own hand over my mouth, me calling his name, laughing afterwards because it was so free and wild. I remembered yesterday. The weightless feeling of falling in love; the realization that something you wanted had been in front of your face this whole time. And then the dream went red. And he killed me. Over, and over, and over.

And when I woke up the next morning, I was exhausted. But I was done laying around, and I got up to face another day.

**NEXT:** _Night 4. It's going to get messier before we wash it all away in the broken baths guys, so hang on..._


	4. NIGHT 4

Scott came to my door.

I let him in. He had flowers; that was a nice gesture. I accepted them and placed them in an empty vase I had stored on one of my shelves. I reminded myself to add water later. He kissed me, rather stiffly, and asked if I wanted to go out for dinner. I replied I wasn’t hungry. 

“All right,” he said with a tight smile. “No problem.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, and I sat down next to him.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it Jean,” he said casually.

I knew where this was leading and I felt conflicted. First of all, we both knew that was a half-truth because Emma had been all over Scott like a rash since this little arrangement started. I wouldn't have been surprised to learn they hadn't spent a single night apart; Emma was clearly the kind of girl who didn't like to share her toys on the playground. She was obviously crazy about Scott, and he didn't seem to mind that one bit. Conversely, Scott must’ve known what Logan and I had been up to. He wasn’t deaf or blind and Logan was many things but quiet and subtle wasn’t one of them.

No, what Scott meant was it had been some time, a long time, since he and I had been intimate together. And that was true. We’d been having problems long before mutant idealism and free love and celebrating the Krakoan way ever came along, not that he would ever admit it. 

I still loved him. How could I not? He’d been my first love, and the ties that bind can be unrelentingly strong. Still, it didn’t feel the same between us and it hadn't for a long time. Both of us were too stubborn to admit it, I knew, but it didn't stop it from being the truth. After everything that had happened, I still called him my husband, but I didn’t feel the way I was supposed to. I felt affection. I felt the kind of love you have for someone you've known a long time, through a lot of bad weather. I felt guilt in place of the lust that was gone. I had memories, but they felt wilted and pale.

I looked hard at Scott, tried to admire him like I used to. Tried to see him through the eyes of eighteen-year-old me when it was still puppy love. He was handsome, classically so. He had a strong jawline, a winning smile. He was fit. His slender, athletic build suited him well. I used to find that lanky walk endeaing. I remembered when I would look at that frame with longing, look at his face and sigh. 

I tried to force those feelings to stir once again, but it was like watching a home movie from long ago, I was standing outside it. How was it that I was so different from the person I’d been ten years ago? Was that normal? Had he changed too?

Scott put an arm around me. It felt familiar.

“I’ve really missed you Jean,” he said. And the words were right, but the emotions were missing. Or maybe it was just me.

Scott began undressing me. Kissing me. He did everything so gently, so politely. And as for me, I wanted to want it. I let it go, I played my role until we were both naked on the bed. Then, I was going through the motions, almost muscle memory at this point, but my head was elsewhere.

In the middle of groping, and kissing, and soft murmured encouragement, he suddenly stopped.

“You’re not…” Scott said, somewhat confused, and then paused. I knew the word he didn’t say, because he’d been thinking, _you’re not wet_. An image suddenly flashed in my mind, so strong I could almost smell and taste it, Logan whispering to me _goddamn Red, you’re so fucking wet._ As the memory sent a thrill through me, the color immediately jumped into my cheeks, my heart hammering. I bidded the scene to leave my mind, tried to erase the whole thing. I was terrified that I’d accidentally projected to Scott. Please, anything but that. Please no.

“What’s wrong?” Scott asked. From his tone I could tell that he hadn’t caught any of that errant thought, thank God.

“I’m just tired and… you know, I just feel off, is all,” I replied. I felt so sorry for Scott in that moment; this was something wrong with me, not him. My feelings were all wrong. My heart was in the right place, I thought, but I somehow couldn’t make myself be who he needed me to be. I felt frustrated. Why was this so damn hard?

“Do you want to stop?” he asked. I knew that he would, if there was any doubt. Scott was a decent man.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. He was my husband. I loved him. I wanted to make love to him. I wanted him to find pleasure in me. It wasn’t like we hadn’t done it a thousand times. What was one more?

So we had sex. 

“Did you finish?” Scott asked me, breathless, his visor gleaming above me as a lock of brown hair flopped over his forehead. I was on my back, covers twisted underneath me. 

“I uh, no,” I admitted, not wanting to make him feel bad. The truth was I was concentrating so hard and so terrified the whole time about letting a single thought of Logan enter my head that I hadn’t enjoyed much of anything. I’d felt like I’d just completed a chore, like washing the dishes.

“Do you want me to… or, you know, you want to yourself?” Scott asked amicably. He would have too. Dutifully, if not enthusiastically. The idea left me feeling somewhat grimy.

“No, it’s fine. I’m tired, that was good, I’m just… tired,” I said, knowing how uninspired that sounded but not particularly caring..

However, Scott seemed to accept this without a second thought, kissed me on the lips, tenderly, and then rolled to the side.

I lay flat on my back, staring at the ceiling. I heard Scott sigh next to me, and then he took a drink of water from a glass by the bedside.

“What the…oh, what the hell is that?” He asked in a tone that was clearly peeved. His hand felt around the covers.

He held up a sunflower seed.

“Jean, I told you not to bring snacks to bed, this is exactly what happens.”

“Sorry,” I murmured. 

“It’s disgusting.”

“I said I’m sorry,” I snapped in an irritated tone, and he let it drop.

I lay there as Scott checked his phone. I let my mind wander, just enough. This room. This bed. _I was so close to coming, almost there, and he bit me on the shoulder; not hard, just enough that it pushed me over the edge, and then he leaned back and watched me, eyes dark, satisfaction practically radiating from…_

“Krakoa’s on the front page of Google News, how about that,” Scott exclaimed.

My whole body startled visibly and said I “Oh!” out loud. Scott shot me an odd glance, raised an eyebrow.

“Still a little nervous, huh Jean? I don’t blame you. After what Logan did…that goddamn animal.” he shook his head, jaw clenched.

I swallowed hard, glanced over at Scott, who was scrolling through the news on his phone.

I could master the art of self-delusion to a degree. But what was happening now…I'm not stupid. I knew I was in some deep fucking trouble. If I were the heroine in some story, I'm sure I could've sat Scott down, told him goodbye, gone out and found myself. But I wasn't that brave, I wasn't the superhero I pretended to be. I was confused, and hurt, and scared. And on top of that, I was craving something Scott couldn't give me, and Logan could.

Somewhere in between my waxing and waning marriage, and this shiny new society we were building, and these new ideas that worked great in theory, my mind was stuck somewhere it shouldn’t be.

_His smell, his voice, the way he looked at me, the way he felt when he was inside me…_

Stop, stop it. I told myself. What in the hell was wrong with me. Seriously. I was a grown woman.

Scott put down his phone and turned to me. 

“Honestly," he said, stretching his hands behind his head, "Part of me is just glad you got it out of your system Jean,” he placed hand on my shoulder and gave it a little rub. I suddenly felt very exposed, and quickly pulled Scott’s t-shirt on over my head, pulling it down to my thighs.

“What do you mean?” I asked nervously. 

“This whole Logan thing. I mean, you know that’s been a thorn in my side since…Jesus, it feels like practically forever.” he rubbed his hands over his face.

“I know you and he haven’t always been on the best of terms,” I replied.

“Yeah, well. When you see your wife look at another man that way...didn't ever exactly make me feel friendly," Scott replied, his voice turning hard.

Guilt rushed over me. Had it always been that obvious? 

“But I had to accept, maybe he could give you something I couldn’t.”

I was staring at Scott, expression carefully neutral, but there was no way in hell I wanted my husband to start asking prying questions about what had gone on between Logan and I. I never asked him about Emma. Never. I didn't want to know.

“So I understand… you just needed the sex. That’s fine. I’m not into that rough stuff anyway. I have my own needs,” Scott prattled on. I wondered how long I had to stay and listen to this.

“You know the problem with Logan,” Scott said with a derisive shake of his head, “He never understood his place. I know you had a crush on him Jean, for whatever reason, but Logan...he was always mooning around you, like he was in love with you. Like he was genuinely in love with you. How goddamn sad and hilarious was that. Right?" I said nothing, just stared at Scott. "Seriously, what did he think? Did he think you were going to marry him? Start a family?” Scott snorted, looked at me like we were sharing a joke together.

“What’s funny about Logan wanting to have kids one day?” I asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

“Oh PLEASE Jean. Are you joking?” Scott asked, raising his eyebrows above his visor. “That man is poison. Jesus he’s a walking funeral service. He kills everything he touches. I mean he's a great man to have behind you in a fight, and I'm not trying to disrespect him, because he and I; we're solid now. We are. He's got plenty of talents. But being in a relationship? Being family man? That's not in the cards for him. I wish he'd just see himself for what he is, and make it easier on all of us.”

This time the memory was so strong it was like I’d ascended time. _Logan, his arm around me, smiling down at me, cracking a sunflower seed. Laughing at some dumb joke I’d made, even though I knew it wasn't that funny. Looking at me like I was the only person in the world._ I felt a sudden pain in my heart.

“Scott, you don’t need to tear down Logan just to make yourself feel better, all right? He’s been through a lot," I said, picking idly at the sheets.

Scott sat up in bed suddenly, as if I'd triggered some sore spot. Apparently I had. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Jean, are you serious? He killed you. The guy skewered you. He should be in prison for what he did, the only reason he's not is because we need him on X-Force and he apologized like hell to me about the whole situation. But you? You’re defending him?” his tone was one of utter disbelief.

“It wasn’t him,” I said hesistantly. “When it happened; he was under the control of someone else. He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Funny,” Scott said, and his look had turned from surprise to condescension. “I seem to remember,” he counted on his fingers, “Oh, three, four times I've seen you run through by those claws?”

“You’re impossible when you get like this,” I said, exasperated.

Scott shrugged, “I’m just telling it how it is Jean.” There was a soft ding and he looked down at his phone, and smiled.

“That Emma?” I asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Scott responded stiffly. 

“I guess we’re not going to talk about your stellar choices either now, are we Scott?” I said. I said it to instigate, because by now I was really pissed off.

“I have no idea what you mean Jean,” Scott replied, glancing down at his phone again. “And I hope your jealousy of Emma isn’t going to get in the way of all of us being adults about this whole situation.”

I was fuming. I was furious. I willed myself to keep my mouth shut because at this point, I didn’t want a fight. I always knew how they’d turned out anyway.

“Would you mind giving me that t-shirt back?” Scott asked without looking up, voice once again neutral. “Emma gave it to me, she likes when I wear her presents. It’s a thing with her.”

“Are you going to visit with Emma right now?” I asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” Scott said slowly, in a voice that clearly made me sound like I was acting crazy. I hated when he did that. Gaslighting me. He never admitted it. "Is there some emergency?" I asked, trying to think of any reason he wouldn't be a complete asshole for doing this. Scott looked at me like I was the most unreasonable person alive. “She made us a nightcap, that’s what she was texting me about. I’m sorry, is there a problem?”

I stared at him, mouth dropping slightly open. I ripped off the t-shirt, threw it at him.

“Wow, okay, are you angry at me for something?” Scott asked, sounding somewhat genuinely concerned.

I felt everything rising inside. That feeling again, that sweeping anger that took over my mind and body and made me want to raze everything in my path with a furious fire.

Take a deep breath Jean. Don’t give him the satisfaction, I scolded myself angrily. Pull it together.

“No,” I replied calmly. “Have fun.”

“Thanks,” Scott said, grinning at me. His teeth were so perfect and white. When he smiled, he looked like the stock photo of a handsome husband on a cereal box. And at that moment I wanted to punch every single one of those teeth right out of his face. And Emma. What I would do to Emma would make Logan run and hide.

Scott walked out of the room.

"It was nice to connect again. We should do it more often," he called.

I sat there stiffly on the edge of the bed, topless.

There was a click as the door closed. I could hear faint conversation next door, Emma’s tinkling laugh. The two of them, sharing a joke. Having a grand old time.

I carefully stood up. I put on another t-shirt, my own this time, and I pulled on a pair of jeans.

“Oh Scott, do stop, you’re too much!” I heard Emma call delightedly from next door. I didn’t want to hear her voice anymore.

I didn’t have to be with anyone. I could be alone.

 _You already are alone,_ a voice inside me said. _You've been alone for a long time._

Scott's words, in my mind. He's poison. He's an animal. Does he even know how to love someone? Is there anything he hadn't ruined. Scott wasn't entirely wrong. Logan was a wreck. It was just that, under the wreckage I thought I'd seen something more. But how could I even entertain the idea of letting him in. He’d stabbed me. What kind of monster does that? _You did murder a billion people and eat a star, and you’ve tried to kill him before too, you're not exactly a wide eyed innocent yourself, Jean._

“Stop making excuses!” I said out loud to myself, then quickly glanced around to make sure no one had heard my outburst. No, I was alone. I snuck outside. 

The air was cool. I could see the Earth over the horizon.

I let my mind wander. I let it wander to a very specific someone.

_You all right, Red?_

His voice was like a cool breeze in my head. _Yeah,_ I replied silently.

_You with Scott?_

_I was._

_Good,_ came the response. _You should be._

 _Who the hell are you to tell me who I should be with?_ I shot back at him.

I could feel the mild surprise. There was silence.

 _Fair enough,_ he replied. _You guys fight?_

_It’s not your business. I'm just tired of people telling me who I should be._

_Sorry, didn't mean it ta come across that way._

Silence. 

_Logan... I don't think...I don't think I love him anymore. Not like that._

Agitation in his head. 

_Look, Jeannie, there somethin’ you here to tell me, or ya just expecting me to play marriage counselor? If that's it you can find a different sap it ain't fuckin' me and you know why._

I took a deep breath. I was still angry, but not with Logan. I realized he was too often my punching bag, because unlike Scott every comment I made wasn’t met with passive aggressive snide remarks. And I loved that whatever Logan was thinking, he just said it. There were no traps being sprung, no words to wind yourself around and trip over later. He was brave enough to speak his mind and it was refreshing.

_Logan, I want you to answer me something._

_Okay._ There was suspicion in his mind.

Another deep breath. 

_When we… when you and I were together. Have you ever felt anything like that with anyone before? Ever. It's okay if you have. I want to know if you have, it's important. But I want you to tell me the truth._

_No._

His response was instantaneous.

 _Shit,_ I said, and I slid down to the floor. I sat on the concrete, looking hopelessly off the balcony. _Me neither. I've never felt that with anyone. I've never felt anything that intensely. And now I can't stop thinking about it. It's ruining everything I worked so hard for. You're in my head Logan._

 _Jeannie—_ he started.

_I want you,_ I told him. 

There was another pause. _I'm not good for you Jeannie. I hurt you. I never wanted to, believe me, but it'll probably happen again._

I shook my head, hair falling freely down my shoulders. I knew he was telling the truth. Logan was dangerous to be around. It wasn't his fault, it was who he was by nature. He had dangerous enemies, dangerous friends. He lived life on the edge, and it was part of who he was. And I had the choice, to accept that or to walk away.

 _Are you telling me, or are you giving me a choice?_ I asked him.

 _Jean,_ he said.

 _Just answer me,_ I replied.

_Yeah, I wanna be with you. That what you wanna hear Jeannie? That this is what I've wanted for as long as I can remember, and I'm fuckin' it up the way I always fuck everything up?_

I smiled a little.

 _Logan, you're my favorite fuck up,_ I said, and I could hear him give a short laugh in my head.

 _And yeah_ I continued. _I want it. But I make the rules._

And for all the talk of a New Dawn, this time I was ready for it.


	5. NIGHT 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Sadness guys. I love Percy's writing, I do. And I trust him, because I think he knows Logan's character well enough that he "gets" the whole Jean thing. The history, respect for her character and what she means to Logan. I don't think he's going to eff it up, I'll put some faith in him. But I just have no faith whatsoever that Marvel isn't going to royally fuck this up in some way. In which case, at that point, I'm going to have to decide if I want to take this AU, or just stop out of, ya know, deep depression at history repeating itself. Anyways. Until then, I haven't even gotten to the Broken Baths so I'm just gonna keep having my fun. Thanks for kudos and reviews, love 'em! IRL, I'm a very social person, and now I'm lonely as hell during the pandemic (I am still working, so there's that at least) so having this to come home to is awesome. Thanks!_

It was a dark, clear night with a full moon above. The air was still and cold, it was probably in the high fifties, but there was a roaring fire in front of me and I was basking in the waves of heat, holding a stick with a marshmallow impaled on the end of it. To my left, I had a mug of hot cocoa. Across from me, I had Logan. Life could've been worse, I'll admit.

"I can't believe you got me to go camping," I mused, pulling the sleeves of my sweatshirt over my hands and putting the hood up, then grinning at Logan over the fire he'd expertly started. He'd set up the tent too, without my asking.

"Well," he said, "Ya said you wanted to get away."

"If I had to listen to Emma's laugh one more time...one more goddamn time," I said, balling my hands into fists inside my sweatshirt. Logan started chuckling.

"Oh you think it's funny?" I asked.

"Yer cute when you're mad Jeannie," he said, throwing a few more twigs into the fire.

"Say that again when Dark Phoenix is about to remove your soul from your body Logan," I said ominously, giving him my best menacing glare.

I could tell he was trying hard not to laugh. He coughed, turned away, hid his smile.

"So why don'tcha like camping Jeannie?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Oh you know... the bugs. The dirt. The terrifying beasts in the woods," I said, purposefully making eye contact with him. He grinned back.

"Yeah, I heard there's some scary creatures in these parts," he added.

"It's okay Logan. I can protect you," I said reassuringly and then we both cracked up.

"So..this mean I'm forgiven?" he asked me, not making eye contact.

"I don't know if I'd go that far," I said, pushing the marshmallow towards the flames and watching it expand and begin to brown on the side. "Maybe. You're getting there."

"Any way I can earn it a little faster?" Logan asked, eyes twinkling.

"Surprise surprise, Wolverine has a one track mind," I said, shaking my head, removing the marshmallow and examining it. Logan had opened a can of beans with and hot dog slices and was eating it with a spoon. Had to be nice to always have a can opener on you, I mused. I made a face at him.

"You're just eating that cold?" I asked. "Cold can of beans? Logan. Is that how you impress a girl?"

He shrugged, "You wouldn't let me hunt somethin' for dinner, so this is what I got," he replied.

"I didn't want you to ruin our romantic campout by dragging in some poor sliced up Krakoan mutant deer to show off your caveman skills... is that what you meant, Logan? I'm just out here saving lives. I didn't condemn you to cold beans."

"I dunno Jeannie, usually the ladies love fresh meat."

I threw a marshmallow at him and he and caught it, popped a claw, shoved it on the end and starting roasting.

"Oh come on," I said, and we both started laughing again.

"'S'good to seeya in a better mood Jeannie, you were pissed as hell last night," he said.

"Yeah... yeah I was," I replied, sighing and picking up my mug of cocoa.

"I wasn't trynna to tell you what to do. You know that right? I just don't like gettin' between you and Slim. It's never caused me anything but grief. I don't wanna be a part of it."

"I understand," I replied. "I...shouldn't have tried to drag you into it. Sometimes I just don't feel like I have anyone else to talk to."

There was silence between us for a moment as we ate.

"So you said this works, long as you make the rules. What kinda rules ya got, Jeannie?"

"I don't know yet," I replied. "I'm making this up as I go."

"Feel like I should warn ya, I've never been real great at playin' by the rules," Logan quipped, eating his marshmallow in one bite.

"Well if you like seeing me naked, you should probably try," I shot back.

His spoon with a small hot dog perched on it stopped halfway to his mouth, he seemed to consider this, and then shrugged and nodded.

"Hey," I said, adding another marshmallow to my stick. "Wanna play a game?"

"You make the rules, do I gotta choice?" He asked.

"Right answer," I said, toasting my second puffy white victim. "Truth or dare."

"Damn Jeannie," Logan said, examining his cold can of beans and chuckling, "You sure you wanna go there?"

"You think I can't handle it?" I asked him pointedly.

He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"You go first," I said, taking off my nicely browned, slightly gooey marshmallow and plopping it into my hot cocoa.

"All right. I got one for ya," he said.

"You're supposed to ask truth or dare first," I reminded him.

"Okay, fine, which one," he asked.

"Truth," I said.

He considered a second. "I got a good one," he finally said.

"Shoot," I replied.

"You remember the time we got sucked up into that kid's head? Long time ago. Skinny little shit, lots of tattoos, lots of attitude, zero common sense."

I thought hard. "Did he... was he that warped kid with the creepy clown room, and the monster under the bed and that weird military fantasy going on?"

"Ya that's the one," Logan confirmed.

"Yes, I remember that particular little mission," I said, and then I couldn't make eye contact with Logan anymore because I knew exactly where this was going.

"When we came back, you said you couldn't remember anything," Logan continued.

"Ah, yes. I might have said that," I said, swirling my cocoa in the mug, watching as the marshmallow bobbed happily. I was being cornered, I knew it.

"Didja lie?"

I swallowed and stared steadfastly at the marshmallow.

"Ah, you're fuckin' kidding me Jeannie! You remembered! You fuckin' remembered what happened and ya threw me under the bus and acted like you'd forgotten the whole thing."

I bit my lip to stop the smile.

"Okay. I'm sorry. I'm sorry Logan, that was shitty of me I know. Okay? I know. But what in the hell was I supposed to say? Oh hey Scott, just got back, Logan and I were dry humping in an alternate reality inside a teenager's mind because we were pretty sure we were going to die... but hey, we're good now. Shall we get dinner?"

"Can't fuckin' believe it," Logan groused, angrily eating a slice of hot dog.

"Oh come on. Don't act like you didn't enjoy what you got," I said, grinning at him from behind my mug. "You enjoyed it a lot." I stared at his lap. "I remember that part too, bub. So don't look so betrayed."

He blew out a huge sigh of exasperation and shook his head at me.

"My turn," I said. "Okay. Truth or dare."

"Truth."

"All right. What is the thing about yourself that you regret the most?"

Logan stared at me with incredulity before slowly putting down his can.

"Well I'll be damned if that ain't a loaded question. I guess everything ain't an option?"

"No. One thing. And I don't believe you, don't play your self-pity card Logan. There's plenty of good in you and I think deep down you do know it."

"All right," he said, putting his hands up to the fire. It must've been about fifty-five degrees outside and Logan was in jeans and flannel, and he wasn't even shivering. I was freezing my ass off in long sleeve shirt, sweatshirt and sweatpants, cozied up to the fire.

Logan licked his lips as I waiting for his response.

"I think, the one thing 'bout me I regret the most.." he said and then stopped. His expression had turned thoughtful.

"'How good the kill feels. I wish it didn't. Wish I didn't want it. But I do. It's part a' who I am."

We stared at each other.

"I know what you mean," I replied softly.

"That so?" Logan asked, mildly surprised.

"That feeling. That rush of power. That drive, and how satisfying it is to just..." I crushed my hands together.

Logan stared at me with surprise.

"You know, every time, with the damn Phoenix. They tell me to fight it. Am I strong enough to fight, can Jean muster the strength to beat it. No one ever considers that maybe I don't want to fight something that feels so good. Feels so right, feels so.."

"So fuckin' gratifying," Logan continued.

"Yes," I said, "Like for a second, you're ruling the world. For a second you get everything you want and it feels so good to just...demolish what's in front of you"

"That feelin' in yer guts, like it was somethin' you needed,"

"Not just something you needed, something you wanted so badly, and then it's right there in front of you and nothing would feel better than to just...destroy,"

"Yeah." Logan said, softly.

"Yeah," I echoed back, quietly. 

Neither of us spoke.

I'd tried to tell Scott about this once, long ago. I'd tried to explain how good it felt to be bad. How addictive that feeling of power was. He'd looked at me in a way that made me feel ashamed.

"We fight because we have to, Jean," He'd told me, his voice concerned. And I knew for him, it was true. He was noble. He was, underneath, a gentle soul and he did what he did to protect his family and his people. And it made me feel like a monster, twisted, because I liked it. I shouldn't like it, and I did.

I wanted to thank Logan, I wanted to thank him for understanding it. But I didn't really know how to put it into words and as we sat there in silence I realized maybe I didn't have to.

"Truth or dare?" he asked.

"Dare." I answered.

"All right," he said. "Dare ya to try an' make me smile."

He looked at me, face serious as a heart attack.

"Seriously?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Do I look like I'm jokin'?" he asked me.

"Fine," I said. I cleared my throat. I stood up. I took off my sweatshirt. Then, very slowly, I took off my long sleeved shirt. Logan was watching me, gaze hungry, transfixed. I liked it. I shimmied out of my sweatpants. Funny how now, I didn't even seem to notice the cold. Then I reached for my bra. I took down one shoulder, pulled it down a little. Looked at him from under my eyelashes. Pushed it down a little more and bit my lip. He was practically drooling. I undid the clasp in the middle and smiled at him.

He smiled back.

"Gotcha," I said, laughing.

"Goddamn," Logan said, threw down his can of beans, and was on me before I could say, "It was all about the distrac--oh,"

He kissed me, throwing away the bra. Then he scooped me up with one arm and with the other unzipped the tent flap and laid me down inside, on top of an unfolded sleeping bag. There was a flashlight open, latern-style, that I knocked over on the way down.

"Logan you lost," I said, laughing, as he ripped off my panties and threw them out of the tent.

"You can't just throw those out there Logan!" I protested, "What if some wild animal--ah!"

He'd buried his face between my thighs and I suddenly lost the ability to speak. He stopped for a second, looked up at me and grinned. I grabbed his hair with both hands and pushed him back and felt him growl which made me start giggling.

"Do that thing where you...yeah, that one... oh, fuck Logan I'm coming," I called, grabbing his head so hard I'm surprised I didn't scalp him. Before I had time to recover, he'd surged over me, one knee spreading my legs, kissing me again and I could taste myself on him. He looked at me, still grinning, his hair sticking out in odd directions. "Ya make my job so damn easy Red," he quipped.

"What are you trying to say? " I panted, trying to sound indignant and instead just sounded breathless.

"You want this?"

"Yes," I breathed, and he pushed himself inside of me, and dug my nails into his arms, letting my eyes slide closed and reveling in the sensation.

We were slow, and intense, and after I'd come again, he effortlessly rolled us over so I was on top.

"I like this, being on top," I said, holding down both his arms and leaning forward, breasts against his chest, as he admired me, eyes trailing over the view.

"I ain't complainin'," he said, holding my hips but letting me set the pace.

"My rules," I said.

"Not arguin'," Logan managed.

"So tell me what you want," I said, slowing down, watching the pleasure on his face.

He looked at me almost curiously.

"You," he said.

And then, like a world appearing out of nowhere I could suddenly hear what he was thinking. He wan't shielding his thoughts. Briefly, his flow of consciousness opened to me and for just a moment I it merged with mine. _The way yer hair tumbles down like fire, the way your body moves, that face when you're right about to come, hearin' the noises you make, knowin' that I'm doing it to you. How damn soft your skin is an' how good it feels on me, that one time you came so hard you cried, how ya laugh if I do somethin' you weren't expectin', and the smell a your sweat, it's damn near intoxicatin'. How ya get so shy when you think you're sayin' somethin' dirty, that way you touch your lip with one finger when yer nervous, that smirk ya do at me, ah that smirk nearly does me in darlin', how green your eyes are when ya look at me, your sheer fuckin' beauty inside an' out, that good heart ya never seem to believe enough in, the one I always wanted more than anythin', that one I been chasin' since the day I met you..._

"You, Jeannie," he repeated, simply, voice hoarse. "You." 

I stopped, momentarily stunned. I'd absorbed in a split second what would've taken several minutes to say, and something I couldn't imagine Logan articulating out loud. It filled my head, my heart, like the sudden ebb of the tide, and then was gone.

It was the two of us, naked inside the tent. Logan inside of me, me on top, still. I leaned forward and kissed him. It was hard to describe what I felt. I felt loved, desired, grateful. I felt like he had just handed me a piece of himself and I wanted to give him a piece back. So, very carefully like unwrapping a parcel, I opened up my mind to him. We were eye to eye, my face above his, our lips almost touching, and I let him in, just a little. Just to see, the way he'd shown me.

Logan started underneath me, his eyes widened as he looked into mine. He looked momentarily confused, and then surprised.

"I do too," he said.

I shut my mind in surprise, like a library book closing. I was momentarily perplexed. What?

"You what?" I asked him, the spell between us was momentarily broken.

"Jeanne I never thought ya felt.. I.." Logan stopped and trailed off. "What ya just said," he finished.

"I didn't say anything," I replied, still baffled.

I could see him quickly making a decision in his head.

Just as quickly as the look of surprise was on his face it left, and the focus was back.

"What?" I asked still curious.

"Doesn't matter," he said, pulling my face down to his, moving his hips against mine.

I pulled away. "Logan don't think you can just shut me up by-"

Logan flipped me over, and did exactly that.

Afterwards, we lay together, one sleeping bag on the bottom, one on top, facing each other. Logan looked contented, sleepy. I felt the same. It was cozy there in the tent, just the two of us, and my body felt so relaxed. So did my mind. This was an amazing idea. I didn't want to admit it, but Logan had possibly made a camping fan out of me.

"I think we ruined your sleeping bag," I said sheepishly.

"You kiddin' Jeannie?" he said. "This thing's washable, it's had plenty a blood, dirt, you name it." Then he rummaged behind him and produced wet wipes.

"Sometimes Logan... you're almost too romantic," I commented.

He shrugged, "Sex is messy. It's half my fault."

I smirked. "You still game?" I asked him, idly pushing a shock of dark black hair away from his face.

"For more sex?" He asked. I laughed and shook my head.

"No Logan. Truth or dare. Final round." 

"Augh," he said, rolling onto his back and rubbing his face with his hands. "Jeannie shouldn't we leave well enough alone?"

"Never thought I'd live to hear you say that," I teased.

"Ya know what I mean. It's all fun 'n' games 'til it ain't anymore."

I did know what he meant, but I had more questions.

He looked over at me, groaned. "You'll be the death of me Red," he said.

"Possibly." I replied.

"Truth," he sighed.

"All right," I replied.

"What did you think I said to you."

"Whattya mean?"

"Don't play dumb Logan. You showed me... you showed me what you were feeling. And I showed you back. It wasn't words, or it wasn't supposed to be, it was just...emotion. Although, I mean, depending on the brain people interpret things different ways. So it would be unusual, but not impossible, if you... if you interpreted that as me saying something."

Logan stared at me a long time. He looked uncomfortable.

"Jeannie can we not do this?" He finally asked.

"No," I said, annoyed. "It's not fair to withhold something like that. What did I say?"

"I don't know. I don't remember," he muttered under his breath.

"Logan you're not even trying to be a good liar at this point," I said, even more annoyed.

"Look," he said, "Could ya just let it drop? Please darlin'. Let's get some sleep. All right?"

He shut off the flashlight and the tent turned pitch black.

He reached for me, to hold me, and I turned away. It was driving me crazy. What the hell had I said? No, more importantly, what did I say that he didn't want to repeat to me? Had I somehow thought of Scott? I didn't think so. It was straightforward, I was thinking about him, I was thinking about the way he made me feel. Was there something wrong with the way he made me feel? I closed my eyes in the dark.

Gently, I prodded Logan's mind. It was completely shielded, I couldn't even get a read on if he was alive. I prodded a little harder.

"Jeannie, cut that shit out," I heard growled in the dark.

I blew out air from my nose, and rolled away from him bundling myself in the sleeping bag, feeling vexed. I was going to figure it out one way or another, whether he told me willingly or not. I hope he knew that.

I fell asleep and I dreamed that I was the Phoenix. I was full of power, desire, rage. And Logan was there, with me, and as I burned us both to the ground, he was laughing.


	6. NIGHT 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _All right, all right. You know not every chapter can be just be filled with nonstop hot J/L action. Why not Amanda, you may ask sadly. There there. It's for the art of storytelling, and this is a narrative with a lot of little twists and turns woven into the 616 Marvel has provided whether I like it or not. There's still some devoted space for the angst, the fights, the emotional connection to catch up with the physical, the introspection, the build... don't worry. There's still plenty of what you came for. And we are getting closer to my new fave scene from X-Force! So I hope you're feeling entertained this fine weekend, and of course as always, stay tuned and make sure you tell 'em to keep this J/L vibe on fire so I can keep adding to this fic instead of... you know... breaking them up in X-Force #11, leaving me crying like a psycho at work and having to make up some lie that my pet hamster died because I can't tell anyone my heart was broken by a comic. GOT IT? Good!_

I was in an unusually good mood. I was humming to myself in the shower, lathering up my leg with shaving cream. I picked up my razor, and carefully glided a path up my calf. The room was filled with steam and smelled delicious; I was using my good shampoo, the one that was a little too expensive, that I saved for special occasions. I'd asked Logan if he'd take me camping again, and he asked what part of the camping I liked. I'd said actually I hated the whole thing but I was willing to give him one more chance to change my mind. He said he would definitely try his best. I liked when Logan tried his best.

When yesterday's overnight campout had ended, I'd felt my heart sinking slowly as reality loomed. We'd packed everything up and left in the morning, and the mood was subdued on the way back. I felt quiet, sad. Logan didn't say much either, and it left me wondering what it was he'd heard me think. Still, he gave me a lingering kiss before he dropped me off, and it put a smile on my face. Then, back to real life. I'd gotten home exhausted, showered, suited up mask and all, and gone to a meeting of the Quiet Council. I tried to participate, but I had difficulty paying attention. It was important; world issues, terrorism, sovereignty, the future. Despite all the critical matters, I felt my mind wandering. I'd promised to review several important documents during that meeting and send several important messages but what I actually did was head home, pass out and nap for three solid hours. Everything I did during the day felt like a chore now. Even the pleasantries exchanged, the small talk, even the missions felt somewhat dull and black-and-white compared to the vibrant colors that flew through me during our nights together. I knew it probably wouldn't feel like that forever, I wasn't that naive, but I decided to enjoy it while it lasted because it had been a long time since I'd done something for myself. I was always putting others first; their needs, their wants, their sorrows and joys. But this was for me, and I was enjoying it quite a lot.

I pushed my wet hair back from my face and smiled to myself as I ran the razor up my leg, creating a smooth path. To tell the truth, there was no reason for me to be doing this at all. Logan probably wouldn't have cared if I was as hairy as bigfoot. In fact he probably wouldn't notice if I'd shown up without showering for a week wearing a potato sack; but I felt sexier this way, a little more femme fatale when I'd put in some work beforehand, so why not? Why not feel good about myself? For once in my life, I felt truly wanted, desired, in-control and taken care of all at the same time. And it was nice. It had given me more confidence. Not that I hadn't had any before, and not that I needed someone else to give to me, but, I won't lie that Scott had hurt my ego. I was back now though, back and better than ever. I felt like people were noticing the glow. Hopefully they weren't noticing too much, I mused, smiling to myself.

I rinsed off one leg, expelled a little dollop of shaving gel onto my hand and started to lather the other leg.

"Wow, what is that smell, passionfruit?" A voice said out loud somewhere in the mist around me.

I managed to avoid slicing my leg off but I yelled "What in the hell?" and dropped the razor with a clatter before I realized who that all too familiar tone belonged to.

"Scott? What in the... what are you _doing_ in here?" I asked, probably sounding as annoyed as I felt.

"I was looking for you," he replied in a matter of fact tone, apparently totally unaware that my heart was pounding and he'd nearly given me a coronary. "Couldn't find you then I heard the shower running. I needed to talk to you, Jean."

"Okay well-- do you mind? Can I have a little privacy here?" I said crossly. I felt very exposed, naked in the shower, even though the steam was so thick I doubted he could see anything even if he wanted to. Which, let's be honest, he probably didn't. I was beginning to think Scott preferred blondes exclusively.

"Privacy?" he echoed, surprised, as if this was a foreign concept to him. "Oh. I mean, sure Jean. Not like I've never seen you naked before, you know," he gave a short chuckle. I didn't return the laugh. Who the hell did he think he was just barging in unannounced?

The steam swirled as he exited; I heard the rubbery squeak of a shoe as he turned on his heel and left the bathroom. The door clicked behind him as it closed.

I stood there, feeling shaken, the hot water pouring over me. This was getting harder and harder. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to be having my cake and eating it too; the stable good guy with Scott, and then then a little taste of the bad boy with Logan. So what the hell did I have to complain about, especially when both sides agreed there was no issue?

 _But that's not the way it actually is, and that's not how this feels at all,_ I bemoaned to myself. I was feeling more disconnected and annoyed with Scott, and I was feeling... more... for Logan than I was supposed to. And I wasn't sure how to fix or change any of that, or even if I wanted to change, even if I had the power. I sighed and quickly finished the other leg, a hack job, then turned off the hot water and toweled off. Scott had ruined the mood. I turbaned my hair, slipped on a bathrobe and opened the bathroom door to find Scott sitting comfortably on the edge of the bed like he owned this place. _This is my room,_ I barely stopped myself from saying it out loud.

"Scott is whatever you want to talk about going to take time? Because I have somewhere to be tonight," I said, trying to keep my tone amicable.

Before he could answer, I heard my cell phone chime. It was a text. I grabbed it off the bedside table before Scott's prying eyes could read the screen.

_Sorry Jeannie. I gotta cancel tonight. Make it up to ya later. Vampire shit goin down._

Okay, what? Vampire shit? Really Logan? I stared at the screen, scowling. I mean, he was a very literal man and I had no doubt he meant exactly what he said but it still didn't make me feel any better that he was canceling our plans. My mood had now officially spiraled down from great, to bad, to worse.

"Well, nevermind then," I muttered and turned my attention to Scott.

"What?" Scott asked.

"I said what did you want to talk to me about?" I replied wearily.

"You sound tired," Scott commented.

"I am tired," I said, yawning. "I didn't get enough sleep last night I--"

I regretted the words the second they left my lips.

"Oh?" said Scott, casually. "I noticed you weren't here. Not here in your room."

"Yeah... I wasn't. I wasn't here," I said, my mind starting to race. Why did I feel guilty? What did I even have to feel guilty for? I hadn't done anything that wasn't pre-agreed upon, and yet for some reason I felt like I was a mouse who had just been cornered by the cat. It wasn't a good feeling.

"So, where'd you go last night?" Scott asked me innocently.

"Camping," I stated. It was the truth. Say the minimum necessary.

Scott looked surprised. "Camping? You hate camping! The bugs, and the dirt... you're always freaked out by sounds in the woods, Jean. Remember that last time we went camping and you made us go home early because you said it wasn't your idea of a good time?"

I gave a little shrug. What did he want me to say? He was wrong? I was lying?

"Did you go alone?" he asked.

I didn't like where this was heading. I could smell a fight with Scott a mile off and this positively reeked of it.

I sighed, "No, Scott, I didn't go alone," I said, preparing myself for the inevitable.

"Well then, who'd you go with?" He queried, still with that oh-so-nice-guy tone that led you to believe you weren't about to walk yourself right off a cliff. But I knew better. I knew Scott. He was a smart man, and he was a negotiator. Nothing ever left his mouth unless his brain was five steps ahead. It's what made him a great leader, a formidable adversary, and extremely manipulative when it gave him the upper hand.

"Who exactly do you think I went with, Hank?" I snapped back. I didn't want to play these little games. I'd played them for most of my marriage and I was sick of them.

Scott stared at me. The longer he stared at me, the more uncomfortable I felt. It was unnerving not being able to look him in the eye. I felt bad admitting that, because it wasn't his fault, but there's just so much you get from someone's eyes and Scott always seemed like his emotions were shielded behind the glowing red of his visor. Even when he wore his glasses, it wasn't the same. He was blank, unreadable, even to the mind reader.

"You were with Logan," he said quietly. It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

It was always a little scary when Scott got quiet. Logan and Scott were two very, very different men, but one of the main differences between them was that when Logan got mad, everyone in a five mile radius knew it. He got loud. He got obnoxious. He stabbed things, he broke things, he stomped around like an angry thundercloud. When Scott got mad, he got quiet. And that, in a way, was far more terrifying.

"Yes," I replied, chin up. "As per our agreement Scott. And I don't like the tone of voice you're taking with me right now. I don't ask you about Emma. When have I ever asked you what you two were up to? I let you have that part of your life, and I have left you two alone. It's not my business. I expect the same courtesy from you."

Scott didn't reply. At that point I almost wished he'd say something, anything, even if it was an insult, even if he started screaming. But he kept that preternatural calm, like he was sitting at a table quietly and meticulously drawing up a war plan.

"You went back to Logan?" he asked, as if this was a puzzle he couldn't quite wrap his head around. "Why?"

This time I didn't have an answer. What was between Logan and I... a tangible chemistry throughout the years which, given the proper kindling had suddenly, massively evolved into whatever strange new wonderful thing we were becoming and... I wanted it? I liked it? I felt somewhat addicted to it? All of these felt like very vulnerable thoughts and I felt like giving none of it to Scott as fuel to the fire of his anger.

"Was he really that good Jean?" Scott asked, voice smooth as butter. "Good enough to be worth it?"

"I'm not going to answer that," I replied, trying to keep the anger from my voice.

"Was he really that good at FUCKING MY WIFE?" Scott yelled in sudden rage, picking up the nearest object, which happened to be the vase of flowers on my shelf that I'd forgotten to ever add water to, flowers that were already wilted and half dead-- and smashed it against the wall. It shattered and I jumped back, shocked. Then just as quickly, I recovered.

"GET OUT, SCOTT!" I commanded, clutching the top of my robe around my chest and pointing one finger straight at the door.

Scott stood there breathing hard, looking at his hands as if they were foreign to him. His self-control was usually impeccable, and it was out of character for him to have such an outburst. I was still shaking.

"I- I'm sorry Jean," he said, sounding genuinely contrite and almost bewildered.

"You need to leave," I repeated firmly. I wasn't exactly afraid of him, but I was afraid of the depth of his emotional schism, at how unaware he was that he cared until he simply couldn't handle the strain anymore. It was uncomfortable to witness.

"Jean... Jean, honey, please," Scott said, and got down on his hands and knees, began collecting the shards of broken glass and the dead rose stems and petals strewn on my carpet.

"Scott..." I began. Shit. Shit. While part of me was put on edge by his explosive anger, another, smaller part of me was almost relieved that he could feel something-- did feel something towards me. I didn't know how to react. I wanted him to leave, wanted to tell him it was over and be done with it but watching him now, carefully gathering the pieces of broken glass, I couldn't say anything. I felt stuck, mute.

So I didn't. I let him collect the pieces, which he carefully placed in the wastebasket. He dusted off his knees, looked at me, and in that look, even with his visor on I saw the hurt.

"Jean you're still my wife. You're still my everything," he said to me, taking one of my hands. "I know we're not good right now, okay? I understand that. But you've got to try. You can't give up on me, on us. Please, Jean."

He let my hand go and it fell limply to my thigh.

"You should leave," I said again, softly, although there was no malice in my words. Just sadness.

Scott turned, and without another word, shut the door.

I stood there, alone. I felt miserable. I didn't want to deal with this right now. I opened the bottom cabinets, pushed a few wine bottles to the side, and found a half full bottle of Svedka. Thank god for the younger, borderline-alcoholic mutants currently running around this place like it was a nonstop rave. I'd remembered stashing it in my room after I found it next to a half-full bowl of cereal and a couple of passed out half-clothed costumed bodies after what must've been one hell of a party. I felt nostalgic. Life used to be like that once, one big party. Party's over, I supposed. Now I was like some kind of den mom. And I wasn't even _that_ old. I wasn't twenty-one anymore either. Why was this my life now? I stared at the bottle. Wasn't this how Logan dealt with all his problems? Maybe he knew something I didn't.

I unscrewed the lid, took a swig of it straight and immediately grimaced. It tasted like gasoline and it burned. I shook my head my head to clear it, and took another drink. What was I doing? I don't think I'd ever done anything like this before, in fact, I couldn't remember a time I'd ever been drinking alone, but fuck it. This past month had brought plenty of firsts, so why not this as well. Why not.

Sitting alone there on the floor, I finished the entire bottle. It was probably a pitiful sight to see, if anyone had been around to witness it, but I kind of got why people did it. I'd never been a proponent for running from my problems- but with the room spinning and my head fuzzy, the anger and the pain were dulled. I didn't feel better but I felt less. I raised an empty bottle.

"A toast to me," I said out loud, sarcastically, aware that I was somewhat slurring my words. "A toast to Marvel girl, truly a fucking hero." I curled up there on the floor, the room spinning. I was eye level with a dead rose petal, and all of a sudden the fight with Scott came rushing back, the way he smashed the vase, the way his words hid his emotions, the way he'd pleaded with me and...

I made it to the bathroom just in time. I had never remembered being so sick in my life, and I will tell you, straight vodka is just as bad coming up as it is going down. I had definitely had too much too fast. I vomited again, and starting crying. Wonderful. True hot mess.

Then, I felt a rough hand brush my hair away from my face and hold it back. I heard a chuckle.

"Oh great" I muttered, feeling a full body cringe coming on. "...oh fucking great."

"Good ta see you too," he replied.

I managed to turn my head slightly to the right, causing the world to swirl precariously, only to see Logan's somewhat bemused expression as he knelt beside me. I sighed and rested my cheek on the toilet seat. So much for looking sexy.

"I thought you were busy killing vampires," I groaned, feeling truly awful. "Why are you here?"

"Apparently, ta keep you alive 'til mornin," he said, "You uh... havin' some kind of celebration here?"

"Yeah Logan," I said, looking at him with a tear streaked face, my bathrobe falling off one shoulder. It looked momentarily like there were two or three Logans and I shook my head trying to clear my vision. "My annual reminder that Scott Summers is a fucking asshole," I said, probably a little too loudly because Logan's fingers came up to my lips and even though he was a little blurry I could tell he was trying not to smile.

"Darlin'," he chuckled, "He's in the other room and he ain't deaf."

"I don't care," I complained stubbornly. "He pretends to be fine, and then he's like, Logan's an animal, he kills everything he touches, he's poison, how could you choose him over me when I've been such an amazing fucking husband next door dick deep in Emma Frost..." I said bitterly, and then I hiccuped.

"He kinda has a point," Logan mused. "I mean, about me. He ain't wrong. Is this why yer three sheets to the wind?" He held up the empty Svedka bottle. "How much of this didja actually drink Jeannie? You ain't exactly a heavyweight. And why such cheap liquor this shit's for college kids."

I didn't give him the satisfaction of telling him that's exactly where I'd gotten it, basically. "Oh, you're going to judge me about drinking Logan? You?" I slurred.

"Point taken," he said. "Just doesn't seem like you Jeannie, that's all."

"OH REALLY," I said, louder than I meant to, suddenly turning my anger to Logan, and poking him in the chest. "Well you've been enjoying Jean the fantasy, welcome to Jean the fucking reality," I said. And then, as if to punctuate that, I turned back to my new best porcelain friend and threw up again. I realized he was holding my hair, and I turned slowly towards him, half wishing he was gone and half hoping it wouldn't leave.

"Sorry," I said, at least, I tried to say it. I was focusing most of my energy on both not puking, and not crying.

"You got any bottled water around here?" Logan asked. "You need to drink somethin' that ain't vodka."

"Are you mad at me?" I asked, hiccuping again, and daring to peer at him out of one eye. I immediately closed my eyes again, to try and stop the spinning.

"Why would I be mad you?" he replied, sounding confused

"I'm drunk. I'm talking about Scott. And I'm not acting like a responsible adult. I'm kind of being a bitch."

Logan stared at me.

"Darlin', you're wasted. You are absolutely shit-faced. You smell like yer blood's 'bout a hundred proof right now. I'm just glad you ain't pinning me to the ceiling with telekinesis or wipin' my mind. Ya think I got a right to judge someone on not actin' responsible all the time?"

"Why are you always so good to me?" I demanded, and started sobbing.

"I'm not. Ya remember earlier this week, when you were telling me you hated me?"

"That's different and you know it," I said sulkily.

Logan sighed and picked up me, slinging my arm over his neck and sweeping my legs up into his arms. "All right Red, now's probably not the best time ta get into that, huh?"

"Where are you taking me?" I demanded weakly. My drunk mind noted that Logan smelled a little sweaty, and I liked it.

"The bed, Jeannie. You're about to hate yerself tomorrow morning, trust me. Gotta sleep it off."

"Let's have sex," I said suddenly inspired, my mind suddenly flip flopping to desire, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. I leaned my head on his shoulder.

"Not a chance in hell darlin'," Logan said, laying me down in bed, putting the comforter over me, and I heard the water running in the bathroom as he filled a glass. Sitting next to me on the bed, he handed me a glass of water which I begrudgingly drank. I was suddenly feeling very sleepy.

"Thanks," I murmured quietly.

"Think nothin' of it," He replied.

"Logan," I said.

"Mmm?" He asked.

"I shaved my legs for you." I told him.

I saw him laughing. "Thanks darlin'. I mean for thinkin' of me, you know I don't care--"

"I know, I know, you'd want me anyway, I know that Logan," I said, drifting in and out of consciousness.

"Logan," I called again.

"Yeah?" he said. I felt blindly over the comforter, grabbed his hand. Squeezed it. I couldn't make the words come out. I couldn't do it yet.

"I know Jeannie," Logan said, voice soft.

"You do?" I asked.

"Yeah," he replied.

And that was the last thing I remembered before my world spiraled into blackness.


	7. NIGHT 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. The characters are not mine. Yes, fine, I'm borrowing a little dialogue because this is a companion piece to the actual comic, but although this is the universe I wish existed in canon, it's just a wish. Don't sue me, just because I ship like a pro. That's it! That's all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _It's heeeeerrreee! Yes my loyal readers, the fabled Broken Baths are finally here. And I want to give a cheers to Marvel for not yet fucking up this beautiful J/L ship we have going on. It's been a whole issue in and they haven't ruined it! Probably a record. It's going to happen. I'm just going to live in blissful ignorance until they do, because the potential... oh, the potential. So. This chapter has sex. If that is going to leave you clutching your pearls, or legally blind, or make your head explode, then this is your warning. Stop reading now. However, if you think J/L hotness is perhaps one of the best things to come out of this godforsaken quarantine, then by all means, read ahead. We will live in this fantastic space between "yeah they're definitely hooking up" and when Hickman drops the other shoe, ie they're all being drugged by Krakoa, blah blah insert other disappointing plot device in there. Everyone is just acting too strangely, something's gotta give. But I love these characters with all my heart, and I'm giving them what they deserve in the tastiest way possible. Look, I have a really serious, science oriented job and this is my best break too. So here's the love, the sex, the pain, the drama. Enjoy._

I had to take a night off after the accidental bender. I actually ended up taking a night and a day. I had woken up the next morning with a bucket next to the bed, a bottle of aspirin inside it and a handwritten note that said _"Take 2 & call me. Told you you'd hate yourself Red. xx Logan."_ Cute. Very cute. I'd groaned, rolled back over and put the pillow over my pounding head. I hated it when Logan was right. I called in sick, and spent the day in bed recovering. Thankfully, Scott left me alone. In fact, everyone left me alone. I actually enjoyed having time to myself for once. That evening I'd felt good enough to get some work done, listen to some Spotify playlists, finally shower and change out of pajamas. I slept alone the next night, a long-awaited good night's sleep, and then went back to work the next day physically and mentally in a much better place than I had been.

It was a good thing I wasn't hungover when I returned, because it ended up being one hell of a day. I'd discovered that Beast had lied by omission. What he had done-- haphazardly manipulating the telefloronics, and in the process costing lives--it was beyond reprehensible. It was genocide. It was a war crime, and I say that with complete conviction. Not only had his actions taken out innocent civilians, but my own friends, my teammates ended up almost falling victim to his errors in judgement. True, I might have gotten a little carried away when I confronted him, but part of me had wanted to really shake him up and remind him that he shouldn't be playing God. I'd then had to single handedly save the whole team from being savagely infested by the bioterrorism threat of our own making, and all day the adrenaline had run high. Secretly, I was pretty proud of myself. I'd come up with the idea of how to save them off the cuff, not even sure if it would work, and I hadn't known I could be so resourceful under pressure. It was a somewhat electrifying feeling, knowing my quick thinking, my intelligence was solely responsible for saving them. It was also terrifying beyond belief. I felt lucky that I'd pulled off the Hail Mary the team had needed, because the alternative was... well, unthinkable. Even though I knew that Logan was nearly invincible, hearing the strain in his voice as the angry foliage was strangling the life out of him still made my anxiety shoot sky high. The feeling in my mind when Quentin was being permeated by living, writhing, twigs and flowers, in pain but unable to scream was awful and claustrophobic to experience in my head. In fact, I couldn't think of a part of that day that hadn't been stressful. I was under a lot stress, all things considered. Too much. I wanted a break.

And after having had a day off to consider things, followed by a full day of betrayal, near-death experience, slightly late quarter-life crisis (or very early midlife crisis, depending on how you wanted to look at it), I had made a decision. I felt done. Done with a lot of things, but specifically, I was done with X-Force. A part of me had really just wanted to quit my marriage at that point, but I still wasn't quite brave enough to take that step. The team, however, I could do. Baby steps. Baby steps on my way to actually becoming the fierce, confident heroine that I was always made out to be and maybe today, I had been at least a little bit.

I wanted to tell Logan in person, since it seemed personal. He and I were on the same team. It wasn't like I wasn't going to see him anymore. Just not during the daylight hours, the nights would still be his. I had a feeling he wouldn't mind much, but I needed to talk it out before I let it go. Sage pointed me towards the Broken Baths, and I headed out on foot. I spotted Logan about fifty feet away, relaxing in one of the natural springs. He was perfectly still, head lolling back, enjoying the warmth, a half-empty bottle of beer sitting next to him on the ledge. I shook my head. The man had almost had his heart cut out by a half-human-half-sapling, and look at him there, he was the image of peace. I felt a sudden urge, I wanted to be there with him, to experience that exact same calm in my soul. It was exactly what I needed after a day like this. As silently as I could, I slipped out of my uniform, and folded everything neatly on a nearby outcropping of rocks. I approached naked, barefoot.

I was hoping I could sneak up on him, but as usual, he was already looking at me with that wolfish grin as I stepped out into the open. I thought he would probably appreciate my attire.

"Sage said you'd be here. I hate to ruin your peace but..." I said, clutching my mask in one hand. I felt suddenly nervous about telling him.

"You quit?" He asked, not sounding surprised in the slightest.

"I-- I think I'm supposed to be the mind reader, Logan?" I faltered. I wasn't expecting him to take the news so casually. I mean; we had been working together every day the past few weeks. He knew I wasn't always happy with what we'd been asked to do, or how we did it. I'd been vocal plenty of times, so this wasn't coming out of nowhere.

"Knew you wouldn't last too long, no offense. You're too good for the kind of work that needs doing, Jeannie," he offered, taking a swig of his beer. He swallowed and considered, "Suppose you could argue that X-Force needs a moral compass."

"...Sage..." I suggested. I waded into the water, walking over to him and settling in the crook of his arm. Logan raised his eyebrows and seemed to think about it.

"She sometimes comes across as a calculator more than a compass, but she'll have to do," Logan mused. I rested against him, taking a deep breath and letting go, feeling the water begin to relax my sore muscles.

"Give her time. She's like a house that's bigger on the inside than the outside. And maybe you should reach out to Colossus? He's got a big heart,"

"He's got a big everything," Logan commented, and I rolled my eyes.

"I just feel like... I don't know what I feel like," I sad, stealing his beer, taking a drink. "This whole thing, this New Dawn, it's about defending against the worst. Isn't it also about hoping for the best?

"Sometimes you got to be the worst to fight the worst," he answered seriously, and I considered this.

"Shit Logan, aren't we supposed to be evolving?"

"Ask the Professor, you bet. Ask me... optimism's a recessive gene." He probably had a point.

I smiled at him, and climbed on top.

"If you think I'm too good for X-Force, you probably think I'm too good for you," I said, pressed up against him.

"Well...sure. But you need a taste of poison now and then, just to keep things balanced," he said, and he pulled me down and kissed me.

The night air was still and quiet and the steam rose from the baths as he broke off the kiss, travelled to my neck, hands coming up and over my breasts. Reaching down between us I felt how hard he was for me and the familiar spark of excitement and anticipation ignited.

"Hey," I whispered in his ear, feeling his dark hair slick against my cheek. "Wanna play a game?"

He nipped my neck, making me gasp, and looked up at me with a devilish grin, the water rippling around us. "More truth or dare?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mm, no," I said, straddling him so that I was right up against his hard-on. I watched his eyes go dark and his expression hungry. "Something different."

"What?" he asked, in a low, throaty voice. He'd started to become more insistent, urging me against him, thumbs running over my nipples, tongue on my neck, teeth grazing my ear, distracting me. But I was still feeling the high of this afternoon, of my last minute play that saved us all. It was a rush, and my shattered confidence that had so recently been rebuilding itself was stronger than ever. I was Jean Grey. I was _the_ Jean Grey, and I was here with a man who I knew would do anything for me. I was with someone whose touch, whose voice, whose look turned my legs to jelly, and now for once there was no red tape. We could have all the fun we wanted.

"All right," I said, running my fingers through his shock of dark hair, smiling at the light of interest I had piqued in his eyes. "Whoever comes first, loses," I said, our faces millimeters apart, my lips almost touching his when I spoke.

Logan started laughing, hands moving down to cup my ass, pull me against him, but I resisted, just enough. "Really?" He asked. "Sure. Get ready to lose, babe,"

"Oh, you think?" I said, letting my breasts brush against his chest, my hair fall over his face, but not giving into what he really wanted. I gave him an incredulous look. "You sound pretty confident, Wolverine."

"Got every reason to be, don't I?" Logan replied in that infuriatingly cocky way of his, and then without warning he lifted me out of the baths and onto the smooth rock ledge. He was still half in the baths, but I was naked in the chill air. There was enough moonlight to see clearly by, and the dark reflections in the water made the light ripple all around us.

The shock of the night breeze on my body was replaced with the warmth of Logan's wet skin, the practiced ease with which he pulled me into position, hand on my face guiding me to kiss him, opening my legs with a nudge of his hips. Sometimes I felt like he knew my body better than I did, and it was a thrilling feeling. He'd memorized me, his attention fully trained on me. The intensity, the same natural instinct that went into battle falling into place gracefully during intimacy. Logan could always make fighting, savage annihilation, look as practiced as ballet. It wasn't that surprising that he fucked like a natural. Better yet, it brought out a part of me I didn't know had existed. Maybe that was dangerous. I didn't much care.

"It's on, Red," he said, voice low, and eyes locked on mine he pushed himself all the way inside me. I shut my eyes tightly and gasped, nails digging into his back, and our mouths fell together in a searing kiss. He rocked against me, one hand moving between my legs but I knocked it aside, pulling away and grinning.

"Cheater," I laughed, and he responded by angling his hips against me in a way that made me catch my breath and bite my lip. I had a competitive streak and if he thought he was going to win this the easy way he had better think again. He thrust faster, both of us panting, the focus shifting to each other, captivated by the interplay between his body and mine. He was getting a little too confident here and needed to be reminded who was in charge.

Purposefully slowing him down, I leaned back, tossing my hair behind my shoulders and letting it fall back to the ground. I arched my back, giving him full view of my breasts, my body, my head falling back and hair tumbling down behind me. I could feel him moving inside me, and I could see the vast starry sky. My legs crossed behind him, giving him a full view.

He suddenly slowed his pace, growled and turn his head, looking away. "Damn Jeannie," he muttered, and I silently laughed, lifting my head back up, giving him a wanton grin. A little less confident now, huh? He dipped his head down and took a nipple in his mouth and I quietly said, "ohhh no," under my breath as pleasure radiated across my chest, straight down between my legs, which made him start laughing against my breast. I wiggled my hips against him in annoyance, then I grabbed his hair, pulled his head up so he was looking me in the eye and took control of the rhythm, going slow and deep. I knew he liked it when I took charge. I saw his eyes flicker, close for a second, lock on mine.

 _Don't forget I make the rules,_ I thought at him and he growled back at me, and I could feel him craving release, feel the way he needed me, feel the pull as strong as gravity.

I was going to win this. He was trying to move faster but I stopped him, and I could feel his heart pounding, feel how hard he was inside me and how close he was to the breaking point. But I got a little too caught up in my own satisfaction because, he looked up at me, one eyebrow raised, and I knew he had his own plan. He gave me a wicked grin, then he turned the tables on me.

"So fuckin' hot when you ride me like that Jeannie," he whispered, voice rough in my ear. "I could smell how wet you were before you even got in here with me, and I've been wanting to fuck you all day. That short little uniform skirt, Red. Almost wanted to just take you there, in the conference room, push you down on the table and make you come for me in front of everyone."

 _Shit shit,_ I thought. He knew I liked dirty talk. He'd figured that out the first night, and it had embarrassed me just how much it turned me on. No one had ever tried it before. I didn't really know it was thing, 'til it was. Scott certainly hadn't, and the first time Logan started talking in that gravelly voice, about all things forbidden, I'd melted in about ten seconds flat. He knew this was going to do me in, and I could already feel the orgasm building, the plateau right there. I was gripping his shoulders so hard my knuckles were white, head blurry with pleasure. He knew it.

I really had only one trick left up my sleeve. If I played it right, it would work, but I needed it to do it fast because this was feeling way too good and I was already starting to get that little shiver up my spine, the hypersensitivity with every move his made that felt so damn delicious. Too good, I was not going to last any longer. I had to make him go feral, and I had to do it by surprise.

HIs mouth met mine, desperately, and I bit his lip, pulled his head back with more force than necessary and begged, "Fuck me Logan. Fuck me hard. I need you now," His eyes I hissed the command, punctuating it by running my nails down his back.

I saw the change in his face and the rigidity in his body immediately. Oh yes. I knew, he knew. It was done and he'd lost. Once he'd slipped away like that it was time for me to shut up, hold on and give in to the long built up ecstasy completely. It was all I could do because I was about five seconds away from catching on fire at that point. Logan, all gentleness and pretension abruptly and totally erased, wrested me flat on my back in a quick motion and pounded into me savagely, his teeth sharp on my shoulder and I moaned, "I can't stop it, I--"

My orgasm hit me like a shockwave, and at the same time I felt Logan's body shudder heavily against me, the pleasure rolling off him in waves and confusing the boundaries between us. My eyes closed, I felt a white hot glow in my body, so good, so perfect. For a fleeting moment, everything was nirvana.

And in that moment, I had sudden clarity. One instant realizing exactly what it was I wanted, what it was I felt, of who I was really. It was a second of absolute quiet, absolute stillness, that vanished as quickly as it had begun.

I suddenly took in a deep sharp breath, oxygen filling empty lungs, realizing I'd momentarily forgotten to breathe as the pleasure still coursed sweet through my blood, slowly ebbing away. I blinked, opening my eyes, aware of the world once again. Logan was breathing raggedly, eyes half-lidded, and said, "Goddamn, woman," softly as he looked at me wearily, and then a look of confusion and wonder lit his face.

All around us, the water from the baths was crystallized into individual droplets, hanging in the air. It was suspended all around us, like the memory of a rainstorm, frozen still in time. I realized that had been me, that I'd lost control of my power for a moment and created this. This was all me, the beauty, the power, the feeling shared between us made incarnate.

"Oh...oh, I didn't realize," I said quietly, as Logan stared at me with a look on his face that now looked something like impressed.

"I dunno about these games Jeannie," he said, holding me carefully against his chest. "I think if we do that again ya might kill me. And I'd say I'm jokin', but I'm actually not sure."

I consciously relaxed my mind, closed my eyes and let the droplets go. They began to fall down around us like soft rain.

"I agree, Logan," I said, looking up at him as little rivulets ran down both our faces. I moved a strand of jet black hair away from his face. His eyes, pale blue and usually unreadable. His face, some cross between young and ancient. His heavy features, hair black as coal, the rough demeanor that hid a sly intelligence, a good heart. I looked at him with new eyes every day. And now, I looked at him as my flame.

"No more games," I told him, and he looked at me somewhat quizzically at the double connotation.

"I have something to tell you," I said, still feeling brave from the wash of endorphins. If I didn't do this now, I didn't think I ever could. And I wanted to, I had wanted to for so long, like an ache in my chest that never really stopped.

"Yeah?" Logan asked cautiously, expression changing to worried, then guarded.

I took a deep breath. "I think I'm in love with you," I said.

The second the words were out I felt relief wash over me.

Logan smiled. It was incredibly brief, and spontaneous, but I'm not lying when I tell you I don't think I'd ever seen him do it before. A smirk, yes. His cheshire cat smile at his ill-begotten prey, yes. Logan laughing, yes. His drunken grin, yes. But a genuine smile, one that lit up his face? I... didn't really think that was something he did. It wasn't something he did. But he did it, just for a split second, for me.

"So... all I had to do is uh, make ya turn a hot tub into a sauna?"

I let out a laugh, "No Logan. That's um. Okay no, the sex is.."

"Amazin'."

"Incredible."

"Best of my life."

"Hands down... stop distracting me Logan. That's not why I love you."

He looked at me, and the look in his eyes was... grateful? Incredulous?

"Jeannie, I'll never get tired of ya sayin' it. I've waited for it," he said, eyes turning towards the inky black sky. "I've waited for it. Long time. Didn't think it would happen."

"Don't you traditionally say it back?" I pointed out, raising one eyebrow. He gave a little half-smirk, a far more familiar expression, and shook his head at me, eyes laughing.

"Jeannie I loved ya since the say I met you. Yeah, I'm in love with you. You happy?"

I grinned and looked down, peered at him from under my lashes, "oh, kind of," I demurred. "Yes. I am actually happy. It's a little weird, right? Being happy?"

"It's fucking terrifyin'," Logan confirmed, and I could tell he was dead serious. "I don't know what the hell I'm doin', just waitin' to fuck it up at every turn."

"Me too," I replied.

We stood there, as the last of the soft rain stopped falling, half in, half-out of the baths, the haunting darkness and brilliance of the stars around us. It was so beautiful it almost didn't feel real.

"Is that what I said to you a few nights ago?" I asked. "Did you already know?"

Logan looked down at me and smiled. "Ya really aren't gonna let that go, are you," he replied.

"I figured you weren't telling me because it was going to freak me out. Well, I've said it. I've said the three unspeakable words we've both been waiting on for a long time. Can you tell me now?"

Logan sighed heavily. "Ah, Jeannie. It wasn't words. You ah... you showed me things, like movies and pictures in my head. A life. You showed me a life with you and me together. Not just sex, other things. Meals. A house, goin' to the grocery store, drivin' together," he paused. "Kids. Watchin' movies. Cookin'. Goin' to sleep at night. Feedin' a baby."

I was staring at him, eyes wide. I was genuinely shocked. Jesus, I hadn't meant to... I mean, I couldn't believe that was what he'd seen. It was deeply confusing, because they weren't conscious thoughts. Were they? Had I daydreamed that, sometimes? Yes. But never so fully realized, and I had projected all of this, unintentionally, in the middle of sex. I felt mortified, like I had betrayed myself in some way. It was surprised Logan hadn't up and run at that. No, he was here, but now I felt thrown off balance.

"I-- Oh-- I had no idea--" I stuttered.

"I know," Logan said. "I know. The only words you said, in my head when ya showed me all that stuff was 'I want this.' But when I answered ya' looked at me like I'd grown a second head, I just thought, ah shit this isn't gonna go over well and I...thought it was best to forget it. For us. I mean at least for now, stuck in this shitty situation."

I swallowed, my eyes still wide. I felt blindsided, by myself. I wasn't even courageous enough to ask Scott for a divorce yet, and here I was putting images in Logan's mind about having children? Like I was some naive schoolgirl doodling out a whole life for us in the back of my notebook and I'd accidentally showed him the whole thing? It was like someone reading my diary, except for, stupid me I'd handed it over thinking it was a different story.

"That's why I didn't tell ya," Logan finished dryly, and I realized that the look of utter disbelief and panic on my face was completely transparent.

"No, I... that's just a lot," I said, mouth feeling dry.

"I get it," Logan said. "I didn't mean to ruin the moment Jeannie, I just... I wasn't tryin' to be a dick by not tellin' ya, I just thought you'd.."

 _React like this_ is what hung in the air. Like I was reacting. Pulling away. Not ready. Too much, too soon.

I felt his arms, enfolding me, relax as he moved back, physically, sensing that I wanted space. I was alone, shivering. He tilted my chin up.

"Hey, ya all right?" He asked me with real concern.

"I... I think so?" I said.

Logan gave a sudden annoyed look. "Jeannie, I know this ain't the best time to bring it up, but, would ya answer that damn phone? Somebody's panties are on fire-- guessin' Cyke here-- 'cause that damn thing has been goin' nonstop for fifteen minutes."

"Wait, what?" I asked. I couldn't hear it, and I realized that Logan's enhanced senses were catching what I couldn't. Apparently, someone was blowing up my cell phone. For quite some time, according to Logan who had neglected to mention it to me until just this second. Well, great. I began to stand up, then stopped suddenly, a thought occurring to me. Something about what Logan had just said right now, and the way he'd said it. The way his emotions had bled through.

"You're not okay with it," I said, staring at Logan in a sudden revelation.

"Huh?" Logan asked, brow still furrowed, eyes still dark.

"You're not okay with sharing me with Scott. When this started, you said you were. You said it was fine. You're a good liar Logan, maybe the best. You've pretended to be this whole time, but I don't think you are. Not really." I narrowed my eyes.

Logan stared at me long and hard, with a look as cold and distant as glass. He finally drew in a deep breath.

"I ain't exactly the king of monogamy all right? It ain't a new kind of situation for me, I've done this before. But Jeannie, it's you," he emphasized this, still staring hard at me, a look that cut to my core.

"You ain't a one night stand. You're not just a good time. You're it, for me."

I felt a little shiver run through me. The intensity of his words had me caught up like a spiderweb and I stood absolutely still.

"And yeah, I fuckin' hate it when I smell him on you," Logan snarled, and for just a moment, I could see the darkness behind his eyes, the prickle of hairs raising on his skin, the agitation of the beast inside.

It was too much for me, in that moment.

"I've gotta get the phone, could be trouble," I said quickly, and I turned and started off to where I'd left my clothing, my feet making dark, wet prints over the black stone as I ran.

Logan was right; my phone was going off non-stop. There were 36 texts and 24 missed calls. And he was right on the money; it was all Scott. A feeling of dread began to well up within me. He sure had a sense of timing. I wondered, for the first time, if he was tracking me. It was not good, this sudden paranoia. The phone rang for the thousandth time and I answered.

"Hello?"

"Oh Jean, thank God," came Scott's breathless voice on the other end.

"Is everything okay?" I asked quickly, worried. "Is anyone hurt?"

"No! No, it's not that," Scott replied, and there was a quick pause. His voice sounded despondent, pleading. "Jean, I've made a terrible mistake. With us. With how I've treated you. I realize what I've done and I'm so, so, sorry. Jean, I love you and I'm sorry."

"Do we have to do this right now?" I asked him, "I'm not really--"

"Please," Scott pleaded. "Please, hear me out. We can work this out. The two of us. Jean, if you ever loved me, and I know you did once. Just listen. We're going to Chandilore."

"What?" I asked.

"It's a place to get away. It's a place we can talk. Logan can come. I'll invite him Jean. I will invite him myself. Please. Please I need this from you. We'll take the kids. Jean, please."

I held the phone to my ear, stunned, not sure what to say. This was all so unexpected. Had he planned it out this way? What was this sudden revelation? Was he watching me somehow?

"I don't know--" I started. I heard a sound on the other end of the line and realized Scott was crying. Scott? Crying?

I was completely bewildered, flustered, and most of all naked and alone in the middle of night talking on a cell phone to my estranged husband who had, apparently, decided he had human emotions after all. Right after I'd told Logan I loved him. Was it coincidence?

"Say yes Jean," he pleaded.

"Okay," I said softly. "Okay. Fine. Look, yes. We can. And we can talk about this later."

"Where are you?" Scott's voice asked, pleading again from the other line.

 _Don't you already know?_ I thought to myself, then shook it off. I had no actual evidence for my suspicion. It was just a feeling on the back of my neck, a thought in my head that kept nagging. But I also knew that I was emotionally off-balance right now, a lot had just happened, too much for me to process or take in. And mostly, I just wanted to get off the phone. So that's what I did. I punched the red circle with my thumb and his voice cut off. I stared at the screen for a moment before turning the phone off entirely.

I stood there, naked, alone in the dark of night, holding a dead phone. I looked up at the stars, willing them to give me the answers, but the void just stared back at me. There was no divine intervention. There was just me, and the choices I was going to make.

 _This is what you wanted_ I thought to myself bleakly. _A chance to prove you're as good as they think you are. A chance to be who you know you can be. No one said it would be easy._

And so I stood still in the night, wishing I was as infinite as the universe, but feeling smaller than the stones under my feet.


	8. NIGHT 8

It was pitch black, the humid air gently moving from a ceiling fan high above. We were lying together, the two of us, in my room. We'd made it, we were home from the fateful vacation to Chandilore, and even as I was waiting for the other shoe to drop we had somehow achieved an eerie calm. Scott didn't ask about what room I was sleeping in, didn't blink an eye, didn't say a word. I didn't ask. It seemed too easy. We'd actually had a very at-ease, laid back day at the beach. Scott and Logan had been civil, if not friendly. Rachel and Nate had enjoyed the day out with us. It had been almost relaxing. It was late enough to be early, morning was waiting to break through, but the room was still dark and silent. Logan was sound asleep. I was awake, watching him. His rugged features as he slept, relaxed. The way his hair fell, wild and unruly over his face. His heavily muscled shoulders, still well-defined even at rest. His breathing, soft and even. Logan talks in his sleep sometimes. All the way from murmurs to shouts. But tonight, he was quiet, his mind like a placid lake. 

You know that stage falling in love? The one where you want to memorize everything; the way they look at you, the way they move, every strand of hair. Where being together just feels warm, like sunlight on your skin. The beautiful free fall that you know can't last, the bittersweet taste of that ripe fruit just before the turn of the season. I was there. We both were. I was there, deep into it, and I'd been so oblivious until now.

I reached out, gently touched his face. He looked so peaceful while he was sleeping.

"Mmm whatcha doin' darlin?" came a low, sleepy voice.

I grinned, embarrassed. Logan was impossible to sneak up on, even while asleep.

"Nothing," I replied softly.

"Liar," he countered, reaching out and pulling me closer without opening his eyes. "Like what ya see, huh?"

I smiled, watched as his eyes slowly opened. There was just enough light to see the glint of their reflection in the dark.

"Logan, I didn't think it would be like this," I said, my voice sounding small.

"Mm. Like what?" he asked, satisfied smile on his face. This past month, for the first time, I'd started to get used to seeing Logan look happy. Actually smiling. Not that he didn't still glower, and glare, and send vaguely threatening looks most of the time, but the change had gone from somewhat alarming to welcome. There was something tender about his face when he looked at me and smiled. It wasn't the flirty, lascivious grin, it was something deeper now. Something had changed.

"I didn't think we would work," I continued, taking his hand, running my fingers between his knuckles. The webbing was entirely smooth, no scars. It amazed me sometimes, to think of the violence, the sheer physicality of the way his claws broke through his flesh, and yet, you would never know by looking. There was nothing to show for it, nothing at all you could see. Logan was like that; the surface didn't always belie what was beneath. 

"I--I didn't think this would happen. I didn't.." I started, and then trailed off.

"Jeannie," he interrupted, voice still rough from sleep. "Every single day, I think this is some kinda dream I'm going to wake up from and find out that yer still dead. Or that I am." 

I turned to face him in the dark. We were side by side, naked, sheets haphazardly wrapped over our legs.

"It's not a dream," I told him. "Not this time. This time we're here, we're alive, we're present. It's as real as we want it to be."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked me, squinting in the dark.

"I mean... if you're ready to really try this, I mean _really_ try this, so am I."

He stared at me in the dark. "Ya mean that?"

"Yes," I replied. "But Logan.."

"Yeah?" he asked tracing a lock of my hair down my shoulder.

"Don't fuck up," I said, and my tone of voice was dead serious. "Please."

I could see a sudden flash of white, Logan's grin in the dark.

"I'm serious," I pressed. "I know you too well. I know you."

"I ain't gonna cheat on you, if that's what you mean," he replied defensively.

"I believe you," I answered. "But Logan... it's more than that. It's what's in your nature. you're wild. You're reckless. You don't think before you act. You let yourself be ruled by your temper sometimes, and that scares me. Sometimes, I don't really know what you're capable of."

"Well, Red, should I take a bow?" he quipped dryly. "Or ya got some more compliments to shower me with?" 

I sighed and rolled my eyes at him in the dark, "You know what I mean, don't play dumb."

"Yeah I do," he replied stoically, and this time he didn't sound like I was joking. He paused, and I could almost feel him thinking in the dark.

"But even though I am those things... I mean, part a' me, I'm just a man too, Jeannie. I want a life. I don't want it to be this crazy and lonely forever."

"What do you mean?" I asked him. It was so dark his face was just a shadow, but his voice was solemn.

"Ah, Jeannie," he said, stopping, sighing. He pushed the covers off, propped himself up on his elbow. We were face to face in the dark.

"I want the same stuff everybody wants, ya know. I want a home. I want a wife an' kids. I want the parts o' life that aren't just scrapin' by and livin' on the road, all booze and violence. Not to say there's not a time an' a place for those, or that I still don't want 'em from time to time, but... I've had 'em. I've been around a long time. I want the other things, while I can still get 'em. I don't know if it was dying, or what, but I finally realized that no one's gonna hand that shit to me. I've gotta earn it. I feel like I'm ready now." 

I almost laughed, but I didn't, because I knew he was being genuine.

"There anyone in particular you want to do those things with?" I asked, quirking one eyebrow at him. 

He stared at me in the dark. Then I saw him shake his head.

"I dunno," he replied, playfulness back in his voice. "Ya think Chuck's single?"

"Logan, I would just like to inform you that your actual proposal better involve flowers and like...fireworks. Something spectacular. Just a heads up."

"Jeannie if ya want to get married I'd do in a heartbeat. I'm serious. I've been--"

"Shh, shh!" I urged blithely, laughing, silencing him with a kiss. "Shut up Logan. Don't say it yet. Buy the ring. Think it through. Give it time. I'll still be here,"

"Ain't gonna let you down, Jeannie," he replied, and he kissed me, pulling my body against his. We moved together, his hands all over me, his lips on my neck my shoulder, back up to my jaw. He paused, face to face, our eyes shining in the dark.

"Did you know it was going to be like this?" I whispered against his lips.

"'Course I did," he replied, running a hand down my back, over the curve of my hip as I sighed against his shoulder. "You're the love a my life darlin'. Never would've expected less."

He pulled me on top of him, still leaning on his elbow, one hand on the back of my head, running through my hair, tilting my head back to deepen the kiss.

"How is it you make me want you like this?" I murmured, asking the question to no one in particular, as I felt his rough hands skate down between my legs, testing the wetness there, moving to stroke himself, position himself against me. He didn't answer me, just pushed himself inside me, as I bit my lip to hold back a moan.

"You're mine," he whispered, or maybe it was in his head. He sat up, so we were face to face, holding me against him, my legs locked around his back. I like to watch him, the way he moved, the way all of his attention became so focused on me. The way we were together, it just felt natural. I didn't have to try. It was like running on instinct, just letting go and feeling.

"Goddamn Jeannie," he said, burying his face in my hair, resting his head on my shoulder as he thrust in long, slow strokes as I took a deep breath, closing my eyes as the sensation swept through me, electricity running up my spine. "You always smell so good--"

Logan stopped suddenly and lifted his head up, sniffing the air.

"Jeannie, get off," he commanded abruptly, in a distracted tone. I scrambled off him, completely confused and taken aback.

"What? Why? I--"

"We're not alone," he said in a tense voice.

"WHAT?" I asked, confused and frightened, grabbing the sheet and pulling it up to cover my chest, not that it covered much. I had been distracted and secure, I hadn't had time to scan the room with my thoughts the way I usually did but I immediately knew Logan was right.

"Nice of you to finally notice," Scott's voice rang out dryly from the doorway. Both our heads whipped towards the sound of his voice. I saw a thin red strip of light glowing brightly in the dark. "You were a little wrapped up. I knocked." 

"What the fuck is wrong with you Summers," Logan roared, vaulting out of bed, stark naked.

"WOAH! Stop it. STOP IT!" I yelled to Logan, still clutching the sheet to my chest and leaping up to get between them. Clearly neither of them was listening to anything I was saying. There was a tension approaching critical in the air. I'd known because I'd felt it before. 

"Go on Logan," Scott said, approaching slowly, his stride long and confident, and I could see one hand on the side of his visor in the dim light.

"Logan DON'T," I warned, my voice steel.

"For the last fucking time, Summers, stay the hell out," Logan growled and with a SNIKT and a glint of metal the claws were out. As Logan stepped forward I threw my TK force at him, quite literally halting him in his tracks. I could feel a surge of rage emanate from his mind as I held him in suspended animation.

"Listen-- I am getting dressed right now," I hissed through my teeth, heart pounding, hands shaking, trying to keep my cool, "And then I am going outside to talk to you Scott Summers. Leave. Now. Get the hell out Scott, you have five seconds," I said without room for argument, still holding Logan still as Scott, evidently understanding just how close I was to murdering both the men in my life, turned and left. I turned my attention, to the still-frozen, still-feral Wolverine.

"I am going to let you go Logan, but I don't want to you to move a muscle. So help me God, if you so much as touch a single hair on Scott..." I let the sentence dangle, and then released my power.

Logan growled and turned, sinking his claws into the bed, lacerating the foam, and then turning back towards the door, striding forward. 

"Logan, goddamn it CONTROL YOURSELF! STOP!" I yelled at him, my eyes flashing. His head turned towards me, his look almost startled, and I tried to calm myself down, take a deep breath. I suddenly caught my reflection in the mirror behind him and saw my own eyes were glowing. So were my hands. Calm down, calm down. I forced myself to take deep breath before I walked to my closet, grabbed a robe so violently the hanger fell out of the floor and slammed the door behind me.

Scott stood in the hallways, motionless, like a statue. I stood facing him, and he stood facing me.

"What is this, Scott?" I asked, before he had a chance to say anything. "What on Earth were you thinking? What is this sick fascination with my life outside of you, this obsession with me and Logan? You asked for this deal, Scott. YOU. So why are you behaving this way?"

He didn't reply at first, just stared down, face unreadable.

"Rationally, I suppose I was... I was trying to save you from yourself, Jean," he said, voice quiet but intense. "If I'm going to be honest... I think that part of me... part of me wants to know what he's giving you that I can't."

"Have you ever thought of, I don't know, ASKING me?" I yelled at him, exasperated. "Instead of breaking into my goddamn bedroom while I'm-- we're--"

"See Jean," he quickly retorted, "You can't even say it. A part of you is embarrassed to be with him. Scared of what people will think, because you know his reputation and so does everybody else."

"I'm not embarrassed of Logan," I hissed back at him, enraged. "If anyone is embarrassing, it's you. You're controlling, you're manipulative, and you're being dishonest with me."

"That's not the way I see it," Scott answered cooly. 

"I don't give a damn what you see," I replied. "I am a grown woman. I am not your pet. I make my own decisions."

"And yet you're deciding to break up our marriage, break up our family that we've worked so hard to build, to risk everything that our leadership together had brought us, over what. Over what? Over what, Jean?"

"What do you want me to tell you Scott?!" I yelled, emphasizing each word. "What do you need to hear? Yes, I've been attracted to Logan, you know it, I know it, he knows it. It's not a goddamn secret. I know it was painfully obvious, and I'm sorry! I'm sorry, okay? But I kept my vows to you, I kept every single word of them until you told me otherwise. I've always been straightforward with you, always. It's like you thought this was just going to be some casual.. I don't know, some casual fling."

"That's exactly how it was supposed to be," Scott responded, raising his voice for the first time. "But you keep going back! You've developed this unhealthy obsession and no matter how crazy and destructive he is, you keep going back to him. It's insane, Jean? Is it just about the sex?"

"Jesus Christ!" I yelled, balling my hands into fists. "This is what you want to do? This is what you want to hear? That I love it when Logan fucks me? I do. I love it. I love the sex. I love who I am when we're together. But I also love him. I love Logan, Scott. Okay? You've been waiting for years for me to say it, so there. I've said it. Are you happy?"

Scott took a step back when I said this.

"I don't even understand who you are anymore Jean. All I know is that you, standing here, you are not the woman I married," he replied, voice like a stone.

"I want a divorce." I blurted out. The words tumbled out of my mouth before I was even aware of speaking them, and then I left them hanging between us, heavy and awkward.

I could see Scott shaking, his body trembling ever so slightly as his lips tightened and his brow furrowed.

"You will regret this, Jean," he said quietly. "You will regret what you've done, and the way you've done it. When you come to your senses, Jean," he pointed a shaking finger in my face, "DON'T come running back to me. I won't be here. I have put up with too much of this. All your little drama. You are a..."

He stopped, and was breathing hard. Scott rarely got worked up, at least visibly so, but I could tell he was on the edge.

"Just say it Scott," I spat.

"You are a lying, cheating, bitch." he finished, the words through clenched teeth. Then he took his wedding ring off his finger, and flung it on the floor. The small, golden circle glinted in the light as it hit with a ping and rolled in a circle before it settled. It sat there, a reminder of the pain, past and present. Both of us just stared at it, lying there.

"I gave you everything," Scott said, voice sharp and still as glass. "Everything you could've wanted. And you ran from it into this screwed up fantasy with a man who I wouldn't trust with a god damn house plant, never mind a relationship. A family. When you wake up, Jean, when you see this mess you've made and this terrible mistake you've committed to, DON'T. COME. BACK." 

He whispered the last words at me as I stood there, silent.

I was suddenly hit with a wave of sadness. Scott stood there across from me, and suddenly I was so hurt by him, and so angry at him. What had I done? I'd followed his rules. I'd played the role of the good wife for years, and what had it gotten me? A marriage that had gone from fairytale to shit, and now, a bitter end. As I watched his face, I saw a tears running down from under his visor. He wiped them away quickly and brusquely. At least he wasn't a monster. At least he felt something after all these years.

We stood there one moment longer. I felt so hollow inside.

"Goodnight Jean," he said quietly, and he walked away, leaving me there, standing, alone.


	9. NIGHT 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hold on to your seats, strap yourselves in, because we're about to do a 180 at 5Gs here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _FIRST, I want to thank everyone who keeps reviewing. I don't answer every one, because I know that'd just get redundant, but I do appreciate them all. Between sites, have a readership now breaking the triple digits (gracias), so lurkers, you know what, I love you too. Anyhow, I was left with a quandary. Do I continue to follow along the current 616 storyline at the pace it's going, which I think in the L/J area is probably going to be spotty and plodding (because there's so much going on with all the other characters, and the crossovers right now are kind of insane and everyone is running around like ten different x-titles all at once), or do a fly-by-night AU that could still technically be taking place in the 616? It was a hard decision. REASONABLY, as in "I don't want to get fired from my job and abandon my family because I'm writing this blah blah" I should probably just should've waited for Marvel to slowly but inevitably fuck up the really good thing they've got goin' on right now. But of course, I didn't pick that. No, I picked the impulsive, difficult, fun thing which was to AU the holy hell out of this thing and get a really good story in. Look, there's a reason I'm such a Logan fan, I understand leading with your heart. So, Anyways. Enjoy._

I got the phone call that would change my whole life around 8pm. It was an ordinary night. I hadn't been doing anything special. I was in jeans and a sweater, drinking peppermint tea, going over paperwork in my room under the light of a desk lamp. Logan was supposed to come over later. I could hear Scott laughing next door with Emma, and honestly, I didn't even mind. I'd picked up Scott's wedding ring and, unsure what to do with it, stuck it in a drawer under a couple pairs of socks. Oddly enough, I felt some comfort. Maybe I didn't have closure, but I was moving in the right direction.

As my ringtone went off, I checked my phone, but the call was coming from a restricted number. When I picked up, I didn't recognize the voice on the other line.

"Am I speaking to Mrs. Jean Grey-Summers?" A taut voice asked.

"Yes, this is she," I answered, although a part of me wanted to scream _just Jean Grey, actually_ through the line. "Who is this?"

There was a pause, silence on the other line.

"I apologize for calling you at such a late hour. I am a representative from the team of legal services currently working with the Krakoan leadership at the national level. I was hired by the Quiet Council to attend to a certain matter you are involved in, and unfortunately there is a somewhat urgent issue that I need to discuss with you, sooner rather than later. Would you be able to meet with me tonight?'

"I'm sorry," I said, not understanding. "You're who? Legal services for who? And meet where?"

"I know this all sounds very sudden and confusing," said the dry, professional voice on the other end of the line, "But if you're able to come in tonight I promise I can give you a much more thorough explanation. Would you be willing to meet at the Krakoan Hatchery in about thirty minutes? Again, I apologize if I'm interrupting anything important, but I think you'll see when you get here that this is a pressing matter, very time sensitive."

"I'm uh, not sure, I--" I paused, conflicted about how to answer this. Was this a trap? I should tell someone where I am, I thought, just in case. And yet, for a trap, this was certainly odd bait. And what happened if I said no? Would this little "meeting" be moved? And if so, what kind of a trap was that, when I could just say no and refuse? I was trying to think fast and instead I just felt like I was spinning my wheels.

"If this is an inconvenient time for you, you may reschedule with me through Sage tomorrow. I just think that you would be interested in the matter that is at hand, as I said, it is time sensitive."

Reschedule through Sage? If this was a ruse, it was a very intricate one, and it was someone who had done their homework. Hesitating for a moment, I grabbed a post-it note and scribbled down on it, "Gone to hatchery to meet lawyer (??)," and stuck it on the outside of my door. I mean what was the worst that could happen to me, anyway? Death, then resurrection? Not to mention one of the perks of dating Logan was that he sure as hell was not going to let someone hold me against my will without leaving a trail of bodies in his wake. And I wasn't exactly defenseless myself. The woman on the phone said she was a lawyer; or rather, insinuated it. Maybe I was being sued? Sure, why not, I thought. Just throw a lawsuit on top of the rest of the mess that was my life, what did I care.

"I'll be there in thirty minutes," I responded, before hanging up the phone and sighing deeply.

Throwing my phone on the bedside table, I reluctantly changed into my costume. At least if I was being an idiot and walking into the heart of an ambush, I'd go down looking the part.

I got there early, with a few minutes to spare. With the portals in place, everything was basically walking distance, even when I wasn't physically on the island. As I strolled toward the dimly lit hatchery I saw a woman standing there. She was somewhat short, very thin, appeared to be in her late 40s or early 50s, wearing a sensible gray skirt and suit. Her hair was tied back in a severe-looking bun, and she was holding a black attache case. She had a pair of wire rimmed glasses perched on her nose. She certainly didn't look like she was about to attempt to kidnap me. Then again, you never knew.

"Jean Grey-Summers?" She questioned, squinting at me as I approached, the line between her brows deepening, and I recognized the voice on the other end of the phone.

"Just Jean, please," I replied, and held out my hand. She stared at it with unfamiliarity, gave me a short nod of acknowledgement, turned and said curtly, "Follow me, please."

 _Well they sure sent a charmer, didn't they,_ I thought to myself. I supposed if she was about to serve me with papers, there was no reason to be friendly. Shrugging it off, I followed her through the winding rows of trees. We walked through the maze like growth of roots and branches, peppered with glowing translucent bubbles of amber where the resurrections took place. Some were empty, some filled with humanoid forms in various stages of regrowth. In the relative darkness outside, they seemed to float eerily around me. The quiet was somewhat unnerving, and within me stirred a sensation of dread; probably because I'd equated the place with my own death. I followed the small, wiry woman as she headed towards a break in the roots, and then, pushing some brush aside I hadn't noticed, she revealed a door I'd never seen before.

I cocked my head to the side, staring. It was odd, I supposed, that I really hadn't ever noticed something as out-of-place as this before. The door looked like a man-made structure built into the Krakoan natural architecture. It was smooth, white, and when she pressed a white card against what I assumed was a badge reader on the side, it opened with a soft hiss. My first assumption was definitely correct. Someone had built this here, in the heart of the hatchery. I wasn't sure why, but for an instant my blood ran cold. I gave a little start as my phone chimed again and I liked down at it. It was a text from Logan. _Saw your note Red, what's up?_

I quickly looked up as the woman turned suddenly, clearing her throat.

"No phones past this point," she said quickly, giving me a disapproving look.

"Sorry," I replied sheepishly, feeling somewhat like I'd just received a whack across my knuckles from a nun at Catholic school. Without answering Logan, I quickly turned off my phone, and followed the lawyer through the doorway.

"I've never been to this part of the hatchery before," I mused, although truthfully it wasn't a place I tended to visit regularly.

"Ah yes," she replied, and I realized what a flat gray color her eyes were as they flickered towards me, then away. "Not many people have. This is a restricted area."

I waited for her to say more, but she didn't. I followed her inside in silence, the only sound the sharp click of her sensible heels on what looked like white tile.

Most of Krakoa looked like exactly what it was; an organic, living being. A blossoming, growing island full of life. But as the door shut behind us I found myself sealed in a very different environment. It reminded me of a hospital, and it was definitely constructed, not grown. The floors were tile, walls whitewashed, and there was florescent lighting above. We walked forward to another set of doors, which the woman in front of me badged us in for a second time. I realized in the suddenness of all of this, I hadn't even asked for her name. I also realized how foolish I was probably being right now, following a stranger into unknown territory.

The second set of double doors yawned open, and a wide straight aisle lay before me. On either side, I saw several rows of what looked like small, partially translucent cubes, each evenly spaced apart. I stared for a moment, blinked at the odd sight before me.

"What is this place?" I asked, wonder and apprehension in my voice.

"Ah," she repeated, turning on a heel and glancing at me. "Pardon me for not explaining myself. I needed someplace quiet to talk to you, and somewhere without surveillance. Welcome to the nursery."

"To the--what?" I said, and my breath caught on the last word as I stepped forward and peered into one of the cubes. Now that I was closer, I could see much more clearly, and when I saw what was inside I gasped. It was a baby. An infant, sleeping soundly, swaddled. He or she looked very young, maybe only a few days old. I quickly moved to the next one, and again; this time it was a slightly older baby with a puff of blonde hair at the top, eyes open, sucking on a pacifier. I stared at it. It stared right back at me. I couldn't believe my eyes. Maybe I'd never left my room and this was all a dream?

"We have a nursery?" I asked in wonder. "Why didn't I know about this? What... whose babies are these?"

"Well, that's not what we're here to talk about Mrs. Grey-Summers, but as long as we're here, I will tell you that these are Krakoa's children. These are unclaimed infants. They are being raised as wards of the island."

"Wards of the island, you mean, orphans?" I asked incredulously.

"You could say that," she replied curtly.

I turned my attention back to the incubators. I noticed at the base of each cube, there was a temperature display and a small label. I read the labels out loud as I walked by, "Foxtrot, Golf, Hotel, India...these are... these aren't baby names, they're letters of the phonetic alphabet. That's military, isn't it? I don't understand, who are the parents? Where are the parents? Why don't these children have names?" I asked, confused, and now with growing alarm and distrust.

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss that the moment. Please take a seat."

She gestured to a small conference table at the end of the walkway. I pulled out a chair and sat, still glancing uneasily over at the rows of silent infants in their cubes. Something seemed very, very wrong here. The babies didn't look hurt, they didn't look sick, they were obviously being well cared for, but-- why was this place a secret? And who had abandoned these children and why? The woman sat across from me, pulled out a sheaf of papers from her briefcase and set them down between us.

"It has come to the Council's attention that there have arisen issues of marital strife between yourself and your husband, Scott Summers aka Cyclops."

My eyebrows shot up, eyes widened. I could hardly believe what she'd just said. Was THIS why I was here? Because I was fighting with my current, soon-to-be ex husband? I almost laughed out loud. With all the secret doors and room full of mystery babies in sci-fi cubes, I was expecting to get some shocking revelation, not just served with divorce papers, or whatever else this was.

"Well, yes," I said, letting out a nervous laugh. "I'm sorry, what does that have to do with anything?"

"It has do with... everything. I know I'm being vague. Let me explain, or at least explain the Council's point of view on this matter. You and your husband Scott-- you are considered pillars of the mutant community. Here, within Krakoa, as well as your portrayal in the media outside our society. Even the human perception of both of you, as a couple you have great importance not just socially, but politically as well. The nation of Krakoa is still in its infancy. It is a very vulnerable time. There are people in the Council who are very interested in maintaining all the correct players in the correct places to ensure its survival. That's where I come in."

"Wait...what... did Scott hire you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes and looking at her suspiciously. "Am I being sued? Divorced?"

"The answer to all of those questions is no," she answered dryly. "Quite the opposite. The powers that be have interest invested in Marvel Girl and Cyclops, the married couple. That's what I've been trying to explain. Now please pay attention, as I have a contract here to discuss with you."

"A contract?" I said, perplexed. "What kind of contract?"

She pushed the papers towards me across the table, licked one finger and turned the page.

"There are several clauses built in here," she said. "First, the Council is aware of your current romantic relationship with James 'Logan' Howlett. Do you confirm or deny this?"

I felt my face turning several shades of red and I'm sure the annoyance was plainly visible on my face. "I don't know why my personal life is suddenly everyone's damn business, but yes, Logan and I are in a relationship. Scott is aware. In fact, he's in his own relationship with Emma. Look, I don't know why you care about Logan and I, or why anybody else does, but it's nobody's, and I mean nobody's personal concern except mine," I said with a little bit of acid seeping into my voice.

"Clause one of the contract," she continued, unphased, as if she hadn't even heard me. "You will immediately cease and desist all romantic or inappropriate contact with said James Howlett. Clause number two. You are not obligated to engage in any romantic or sexual contact with Scott Summers, but in public, you will appear as his wife. You will appear affectionate, you will appear supportive and you will play the role of loving partner, publicly. Third and final clause. You are not to discuss this with anyone outside of this room, especially Mr. Howlett. If you break any of these obligations, it will end in termination of the contract, and the protections wherein will become null and void. If you understand what I've told you, will you please sign here."

She pointed to a blank line on the paper as I stared at her with disgust and disbelief.

"Now, I'm sorry, excuse me, but what in the hell is this?" I demanded angrily, standing up from my chair and pushing it back so violently it almost fell over. "I don't know who put you up to this kind of bullshit but this is insane. This is my personal life. It is not anyone's business, I don't care how 'socially' or 'politically' relevant my marriage is, when I decide it's over it's over. Krakoa and the rest of the world can get the hell over it just like I did. That's final. You can take your contract and shove it, I'm finished here."

The woman continued to stare at me, emotionless throughout my outburst, peering over the wire-rimmed glasses with her flat gray eyes. She didn't have a hair out of place. She was so still I wouldn't have known she was alive, except for when she spoke.

"I suggest you sit down," she said calmly. "And I suggest you sign."

"No," I retorted. "This is absolutely ridiculous. I don't give a damn if the Quiet Council- which I am ON, by the the way--did this, or Scott did this, I don't give a damn. I'm not interested. This is a violation of my rights, and I'm leaving now," I said, fuming, turning back towards the double doors.

"Very well," the woman replied quietly, reaching into her briefcase. "Before you go, however, there may be something else you want to see."

She took out a manila envelope and placed it on the table between us.

I stopped just shy of the door. Part of me thought about just turning on my heel and leaving. Part of me wishes I had. But there was something about this whole setup that didn't sit with me right, some piece of the puzzle that was obviously missing, and in the end curiosity got the better of me. Carefully, I sat back down, avoiding the lawyer's gaze. I unwound the string binding the envelope and opened it.

Inside, there was a set of large, glossy 8x10 photos. I shuffled through them, looking them over

They were photos of me. Specifically, they were photos of my autopsy.

I felt my stomach turn and I swallowed hard, again.

"What is this. Where the hell did you get these?" I whispered.

Her voice came out in the same flat monotone. "The autopsy is standard medical procedure after death. They are performed on every mutant prior to the resurrection process being initiated. Please, take your time."

Eyes wide, breath catching in my chest, I looked at the photos she'd handed me one by one. There lay my own body, mangled, splayed open. My lungs, my spine, visible through a gaping y-shaped incision. I shuffled the photos, looking through each one, equally horrified and fascinated. Each organ had been photographed, measured, weighed and categorized in a cold and clinical manner. And then I came to something different, and my breath caught in my throat.

"What is this?" I demanded, pointing to a photograph. I couldn't tell exactly what was in the photograph, everything looked like a bloody meat locker. But there was a photo that had clearly been magnified in order to better identify an object. It was something small and almost translucent, that caught my eye; foreign, and yet hauntingly familiar.

She looked up at me, with an unreadable expression of calm. "It's an embryo," she replied. "Very, very early. Definitely less than six weeks, so the report said."

I felt the world swimming around me. I thought I was going to faint for a minute. I put my hands to my mouth.

"Oh my god," I said quietly. "It was mine? This was in me?"

"Yes," she replied.

I was willing tears away from my eyes, trying not to cry in front of this emotionless stranger, this hostile woman who had led me to this strange place only to show me...

"I was pregnant?" I whispered. "I was pregnant when...oh my god. Oh no. I didn't know. I didn't have any idea."

"You wouldn't have," she replied. "Far too early. It was only found due to autopsy protocol. According to the autopsy report, the area near the implantation was severely lacerated but the embryo itself was missed, and still viable."

"Viable?" I asked, wide eyes turning to meet her gaze, mouth slack.

"Mrs. Grey-Summers, I'm not aware of how much you know about the resurrection process, but it works to bring back any intact genetic material. Most of those who pass through the hatchery are grown adults. However, occasionally, this has been known to happen. We do rescue the embryos if they test positive for the x-gene."

"So... so... "

"The child was was sequenced prior to the resurrection-- or in this case, more of an ontogenesis. You are the biological mother and James Howlett is the biological father."

"Logan and I have a child?" I breathed, unable to process what I was hearing. "And it's alive? It's a... it's a baby? Is it.. is it here?" I looked around, suddenly frantic. "Is that why I'm here? You took me here because my baby is... here?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Which one?" I asked, still stunned, pushing my chair out and running over to the square isolettes, peering inside.

"Echo," she said again, flatly.

I ran down the alphabetic incubators, until I found Echo, and I pressed my hands against the glass, staring into it. There it was. There was a small face with a dark black shock of hair. The body was swaddled, only the little fingertips of one hand sticking out.

"Oh my god," I said, looking down at the sleeping baby. "Oh my god, oh my god. I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe it," I murmured to myself. I looked up again, pleading, to the nameless woman who still sat motionless. "Are you lying? Is this.. is this some kind of sick joke?" I asked, feeling queasy.

"It's not," she replied casually. "I assure you, everything I've told you is the truth. I do have the sequencing results to back up these claims if you'd like to look through them?"

"Can I pick-- can I pick it up?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied. "The gender is female."

"It's a little girl?" I asked, still feeling breathless.

"Yes," the woman replied, sounding exasperated. I didn't care. This was my daughter. This was my infant daughter. I pushed the keypad at the base of the incubator and a screen came up. There were green and red icons displayed.

"Press green," the woman commanded me, as if she were giving me directions to the supermarket.

Finger shaking, I tapped the green icon, and all at once, the glass ceiling retracted on the small box and the sides sunk into the base. Hands shaking, I picked up the baby. The motion must've awoken her, because her eyes blinked open, slowly, and fixed on me. They were an icy blue.

"Hi baby," I said quietly, unwrapping the top of the swaddle and letting one small, waving arm roam free. She caught my finger and held it tight. "Hi sweetie," I said again, voice quavering, holding her against my chest as her eyes roamed over my face. She had plump little cheeks and a small, pointed chin. She did look like me. She looked like Logan, too. This was real. This was really happening. My mind felt like it was suspended, unable to fully comprehend the reality of the situation.

"I'm sorry I didn't meet you sooner. I'm your mama," I said, rocking her back and forth as she gazed at me. "Ahh!" she replied, grabbing a small fistful of my hair.

I looked back towards the woman with tears in my eyes.

"Can I... can I take her home?" I asked. Her warmth already felt familiar in my arms.

"It depends," the woman answered, as I walked back towards her holding the baby in my arms.

"Depends on what?" I asked, the steel creeping into my voice. What they had done, without telling me... without informing me... it felt criminal. It was criminal, I was sure. This was a violation of the highest order. That had been my body. This was my baby. Logan's baby. How could they have kept her here without asking me, without letting us know. Who was running this sick show, allowing these atrocities to happen?

"She stays here, for now. And you sign the contract. You'll be issued a badge and you can visit her whenever you like. When you've passed a six month probationary period, you'll undergo a battery of tests and if you pass, you may take her home at that time."

I held my daughter tighter, outraged. "What kind of bullshit is this?" I asked. "What kind of blackmailing, piece of shit deal is this supposed to be? This is MY daughter. You said so yourself. I'm taking her home with me, and I'm raising her, we are raising her, not this-- facility, whatever the hell this place is. Does Xavier know about this place? Does Magneto? Apocalypse? Dear God, SCOTT doesn't know, does he?"

She ignored my questions, and instead gave me a pointed look.

"I feel I need to remind you of something, before you choose to... go the route that you are currently threatening to go."

"And what's that?" I asked angrily. The baby let out a little cry and I shushed her, re-swaddling the little waving arm. I already felt a love for her that was pushing against the waves of anger I felt staring at the lawyer, this ghastly, impassive woman trying to force me into some kind of marital servitude for reasons I didn't understand.

"If you break any of these obligations, it will end in termination of the contract, and protections will become null and void. Do you understand what that means, Mrs. Grey-Summers?"

"What does it mean?" I asked, throat suddenly dry. "And stop calling me that. My name is Jean Grey."

"If the contract is terminated, so is your daughter. You will be resurrected. She will not. She does not yet officially or legally exist in this world. She has no social security number, no birth certificate, no identifying markers save the labs we ran to determine her biological makeup."

I sat there, literally speechless, my mind wiped blank by this statement. My throat was dry. Fear surged inside me like a razorblade in my stomach.

"Are you telling me that if I don't sign that piece of paper, if I don't follow your rules, you're going to kill my daughter?" I replied in disbelief.

"That is not the language I would choose to use, but in essence," she replied. "Yes."

I sat there, perfectly still. The baby in my arms had drifted back to sleep. I couldn't imagine letting her go. I had just met her, but now that I knew she existed, now that I held her in my arms, I loved her. And I was all she had; I couldn't let her go. I couldn't let her come to harm. And I couldn't let this evil personified sitting across from me get away with any of this. But most of all, I needed my daughter safe. I needed to buy time. This was too much. _Keep her safe. Keep her safe. Buy time._

Without so much as making eye contact, the lawyer handed me a pen.

Barely glancing at the paper, I signed it, letting it drop with a hollow clunk on the table.

She handed me a white badge, which I snatched from her and held close.

"Thank you for your time, that will be all," she said, gathering her things, patting her hair with one hand. She gestured to the card she had given me. "You can use this to get in. Please be discreet. I'll leave a copy of the contract for you here; be mindful that you don't leave it lying around carelessly. We've already discussed those consequences."

She packed her papers into her briefcase, locked the top, and without a word or glance towards me, left.

I sat there, holding my baby. Our baby. Our infant daughter. I watched her sleep. Her sweet face. Her smell, her-- actually, her smell wasn't great right now.

"Hey, hey, hey," I said softly to her. "You need a change, yeah?"

I walked back over to her incubator, and found a pull out drawer underneath, filled with diapers and formula. She woke as I unswaddled her, undid the diaper and cleaned up the mess. It had been so long since I'd done any of this, but I guess it was like riding a bicycle. As I put back the baby wipes, and put on a fresh diaper she started crying, tiny face turning bright red, mouth open wide.

"All right, okay, I got this," I mused to myself, humming gently and wrapping her back up. I opened a bottle of formula, screwed the nipple on top and popped it in her mouth, holding it gently at an angle. She immediately stopped crying and started vigorously sucking, staring at me intently with those clear blue eyes. She took four solid ounces, unceremoniously spit up over the front of my costume, and immediately passed out again.

"You're Logan's girl all right," I murmured to myself, holding her close. The mix of emotions I was feeling right now was surreal. Anger, shock, hate, wonder, love. I needed time to process this. I needed to come up with a plan. And it was all on me, I was on my own. There was no else I could tell, no one else I could count on right now without endangering her. I watched as her eyes blinked open momentarily, then closed sleepily while I rocked her.

"I'm not going to let them hurt you, I'm going to get you out of here, okay?" I whispered. "It might take me some time. You just hang in there. I love you. You dad loves you too, even if he doesn't know it yet. We're going to be strong for you, little one. Just be patient. Be patient, baby."

She settled back into slumber, leaving me holding this warm bundle in my arms, feeling numb. I sat down heavily in the chair, sighing. I needed to stop feeling, and think. Think logically. I needed to go back home. I didn't want to, I wanted to stay here, and hold her, and love her. My child. But I couldn't, I would be missed. Logan would be wondering where I was. Scott would probably be prying around somewhere, wondering where I was too, and the last thing I wanted was the two of them having a conversation nevermind searching for me.

Putting the baby back into her isolette and leaving was one of the hardest things I'd ever done. I stood there, face pressed to the glass for what seemed like forever, just watching her sleep. I was so afraid that if I left I was never going to see her again, and I didn't even have anyone to grieve with me, no one who would even believe me. It sounded preposterous. But here she was, in front of my own eyes. Part of me wanted to rage, to cry, to wallow in self-pity, but I knew I couldn't. Not now. The baby needed me, and I wasn't going to mess this up. I was going to be who she needed. I was going to get us out of this mess.

I walked home in a daze, totally unaware of my surroundings. As I made my way back towards the door of my room, I saw a familiar figure slouched in the shadows.

"Hey Jeannie. You look beat, what happened?" Logan asked, putting a hand on the small of my back in a familiar gesture.

I jumped away like I'd been burned, "Don't touch me!!" I snapped, backing away from him, heart pounding.

Logan looked at me with an expression of incredulity, and then confusion.

"Was it somethin' the lawyer said?" he asked, sounding puzzled.

"How did you know about a lawyer?" I asked in a panic.

Logan held up the yellow sticky note between two fingers, still giving me a hard look of suspicion crossed with concern.

"Okaaaay," he said slowly, holding up both hands. "Sorry darlin'. Obviously somethin' went down. You're upset. And," he sniffed, made a face, "Did somebody vomit on ya? Ugh, doesn't smell quite right though," he said, eyes narrowing, staring at the spit up stain on the front of my chest.

I stared down at the spot of curdled milk on my costume too, my thoughts darting here and there. I didn't have anything to explain this. Nothing that Logan would believe anyway, except the truth, which was far too hot to touch.

"Who were you with?" he asked me curiously, sniffing the air again and looking incredibly confused. Jesus Christ, the last thing I needed him to do was pin me down with the smell of a newborn baby.

"No one! I wasn't with anyone," I snapped. "Don't ask me again."

He didn't reply, just looked at me again like I'd lost my mind. Maybe I had. But I had one goal, and I would sacrifice anything that stood in its way, no matter how much it hurt me to do it.

"Listen...Logan," I said, slower this time, staying several feet back from him, but making eye contact so that he knew I was being serious."First of all, stop that. Stop that... smelling thing you do, quit it. I'm serious. Don't come near me. Don't pursue this. Don't ask questions. I need you to listen to me. I need you to trust me. Do you trust me?"

"Well...sure Jeannie. Yeah, I trust ya."

"Okay. Listen. I cannot talk about anything right now. I know this looks-- bad, looks like something bad happened. But I need you to trust me. We can talk tomorrow. But you can't stay here tonight. We can't... you can't touch me. Do you understand?"

He stared at me, expression searching, then blank. I stared back, willing him to understand.

"Okay," he said finally. "Okay. I got it." He took a step back. "I don't like it, but... I trust ya. Listen, if you're in any trouble..?"

"I won't be," I said, taking a deep breath and gulping in air, "I won't be if you leave. I need some time. We can talk tomorrow, I promise."

"All right," Logan said softly. He looked confused, a little hurt. More than a little suspicious. But Logan was a man of his word, and if he promised me this, I knew he would let me be.

"I'll see ya tomorrow then. Love you, Jeannie," he said to me.

I stared back, eyes full of fear. I opened my mouth, closed it.

Without responding, I turned away from him, quickly shut the door behind me, and sat down in my bed, in the dark. I sat there, staring, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. I realized I was shivering, but I wasn't cold. What I was, however, was tired, bone-tired. I could barely keep my own eyes open. Without getting undressed, I curled up into a ball there and fell into a fitful slumber.


	10. NIGHT 10

The lights were too bright, shining in my eyes, and I was smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. I looked over at Scott, who was also smiling broadly, and waving towards the sound of applause, hoots and cheers. The studio audience looked mostly excited to be there. Some were holding up "X-Men" signs, there were a few audience members clearly dressed as Marvel Girl or Cyclops. There was a group of teens holding up a "Phoenix" sign and I waved at them from up on the stage set and they excitedly waved back.

The music played to signify that we were back from the commercial break. We were in the typical setup. I was sitting a chair, Scott sitting by my side, and the late night talk show host was sitting at a desk angled slightly towards us. Everything was in bright, bawdy colors. All the sounds were too loud, the enthusiasm was too forced, the smiles fake.

"Welcome back to the late show! And a warm welcome to you two! Wow, Cylcops and Marvel Girl. So glad to have you on. Aren't we lucky here tonight? Real live superheroes! Let's hear it for them, huh? Huh?" he asked, standing up and clapping. The audience roared with applause, before settling down to a low murmur as I smiled so hard my eyes teared up.

"So how's it going tonight?" The host, a somewhat well-known celebrity, asked, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

I ran my tongue over my teeth. They'd been coated with vasoline by the makeup department, along with about a pound of stage makeup. I felt the skin on my face slowly suffocating behind the primer, cover-up, foundation, and powder. I'd done a pageant or two as a young teenager, and I still remembered how good taking that pancake makeup off at the end felt. This time I thought I'd probably need industrial strength oven cleaner to get my old face back. I had so much hairspray in my hair, I was pretty sure that if a bomb went off there still wouldn't be a strand out of place. There was a reason I'd never been interested in going into show business. But the Krakoa public relations manager had other ideas, and so here I was. Here we were. The happy couple, foundation of Krakoa, apparently, showing the world that true love still exists. Right.

"Doing pretty great tonight actually," Scott said in a relaxed but friendly manner, putting an arm around me. I took his hand in mine and smiled out at the audience.

"Now I gotta ask," the host said with an animated gesture. "With you two here, who's defending Krakoa? Is it Magneto? Beast?"

"Oh, we've always got a great team over there working on keeping the peace," Scott said in that oh-so-reassuring, boyscout-leader tone.

"Good to know. Audience take note! If you scheduled an invasion, take the reminder off your apple watch. They've got a whole crew in place."

A few giggles from the audience.

"Now I've got a serious question for you two," the host added, turning towards us. "It's gotta be hard. Doing superhero work. Representing a whole new nation. Being married, with kids. Tell me, how do you make it work?"

Scott and I looked at each other knowingly and smiled towards the host, then back out at the audience. I patted Scott on the leg.

"I'll let Jean handle that one," Scott said with a short laugh, looking to me. I adjusted the microphone clipped to the front of my uniform.

"Yes, well. It's not easy," I said. "It's not, I'll be the first to admit it. Sure I love him, but I'm not even sure I LIKE him all time, if you know what I mean?"

There were some screams of approval from the audience, probably the bored housewives in mediocre marriages. I did realize I should be the last to judge. Try to empathize, they'd said before I went on. Show the side of you that's 'every woman,' to the audience, the PR manager had hopefully told me, while blotting incessantly at my face with a beauty blender until I used some subtle TK to push her out of my personal space before it came to blows.

"But at the end of the day, you know, it's all about hard work, trust and commitment," I said enthusiastically, looking lovingly into Scott's eyes, visible through his red-tinted sunglasses. He'd forgone the full visor, as we'd been advised this was a low-risk situation and 64% of the audience aged 18-40 identified a visor as 'threatening.' He was also wearing a blue button up shirt, as apparently the demographic found that 'soothing,' and 'trustworthy.' I wondered what portion of the demographic identified this all as 'pointless bullshit.'

"Absolutely," Scott said, taking my hand in his. Applause signs blinked and the audience cheered from their bleachers. "But you know what? She's worth it. There's nobody in the world like my wife," he finished proudly, kissing my hand and there was an audible 'awww' from the audience.

"So sweet. So sweet, I love it," the host said, wiping away an imaginary tear. "Now I have to ask. Okay, this might seem a little crazy, or a little risque, but there has a been a rumor going around. Yes. I see that look on your faces. Now, according to this rumor, you two are not just a couple but a... okay, I have to look this word up again-- a throuple? Throuple? Three people."

The host produced from behind his desk comic issue with a cheesecake image of me, bursting forth from a cake with Scott on one side, Logan on other. I wanted to hide my face in my hands, but instead I just smiled, pretended to look surprised. He held the comic book up and the camera panned onto it as the audience buzzed nervously.

There was laughter and a scandalous 'ooooohhh' from the audience, along with a smattering of snickers and a wolf whistle.

"Now, okay," Scott said, grinning. "You know, I think Wolverine is a great guy, I do, but I don't like him THAT much," Scott responded, and the audience laughed with him.

"Great guy to have on your team, probably not a great guy to have around your water bed, am I right?" The host joked, and the audience howled with laughter.

"Yes, I'm sorry to disappoint, but I'm afraid we have a very traditional marriage," I said. "When I took my vows to Scott, I meant them seriously. He's the only man for me, that's the way it's always been."

"Ah well, thanks for clearing that little piece of gossip right up," the host said. "Those Fanboys still get to dream, right?"

I smiled broadly again, while silently thinking _just kill me._

After the show was over, I took off my microphone and gave it to some random assistant who was running around nervously with a clipboard, mindlessly clicking a pen. Scott was standing with his arms crossed, looking annoyed.

"Let's go," Scott said sounding pissed off, striding off set as I followed him. "They told me they weren't going to mention that garbage rumor. And we've gotta do this again Jean, we're scheduled to be on Mojo in the Morning tomorrow. Cater to the mutant crowd. This stuff is exhausting, I wish Xavier would just keep us out of it."

For once, he and I actually agreed on something. But talk shows and media appearances weren't what was really on my mind right now. I'd been waiting to get Scott alone because I had a few burning questions of my own I needed him to answer. As soon as we were far enough away from the set and the crew, I turned on my heel and faced Scott down.

"Who's the lawyer?" I hissed.

"What?" he asked me, looking startled. We were alone, in an alley between two buildings housing props and sets.

I grabbed him by the collar and shoved him up against the concrete wall, as his face took on a look of utter surprise.

"Don't fuck with me Scott, who is she?" I asked, face dark.

"Woah, woah, what the hell has gotten into you?" Scott whispered back at me, glancing around nervously, and then down at my hands fisted tightly on his collar.

"Listen to me," I hissed. "If you aren't straight with me right now Scott Summers, I will reach right into that head of yours, pull out whatever I want and delete the rest. So tell me, right now."

"Jesus Christ Jean! You mean the lady with the papers?" Scott asked, looking uncomfortable pinned against the wall.

"Did she make you sign a contract?" I asked, still holding his collar.

"Jean-- take your hands off me, right now. You're wrinkling my shirt. You're acting crazy. Yes, I signed her contract. It wasn't a big deal, it was basically just asking us to do what we're already doing anyway. Now what's got into you?"

I released his collar and brought my face close to his, menacing. He had a look in his eye that was part confusion part fear, and I liked it. Good. You should be afraid Scott. You should be afraid of me, because I will do whatever it takes to keep my family safe, including sacrificing you.

"What about the nursery?" I asked the words slowly and clearly.

"The WHAT?" he asked, squinting at me. He readjusted his glasses and stared at like I'd just asked him about flying pigs.

"The babies. The nursery. So help me God Scott, I will leave you a fucking vegetable. I'm not kidding."

"Jean are you unwell? Look, I'm not playing games with you, okay? I have no idea what you're talking about. What babies? Are you on drugs? You are acting completely insane!"

I could see beads of sweat standing out on Scott's brow, but I could also sense the confusion and total bewilderment coming off him in waves. He was telling the truth. He really didn't know what I was talking about. He had never seen a nursery. He didn't know anything about babies, or orphans, or a secret fucking door in the hatchery. No, apparently I was special. Or, had needed special coercion.

I backed off. Scott responded in kind by quickly backing away from me, staggering a few steps back, giving me furtive glances while smoothing out his shirt with both hands.

"Listen Jean," he said, "Don't take this the wrong way, but you need to get some kind of psychological help. I'm sorry you broke up with Logan, not that it was all that surprising to the rest of us, but these things happen all the time. Pick yourself up and move on before you make a fool of yourself. You can't go around acting like this, so pull it together, we've all had our hearts broken," he finished, bitterness creeping into his voice.

I stared at Scott, pure hatred in my eyes.

"Listen," he continued. "Just be there at 6am tomorrow morning, all right? You got the contract same as me, I'm guessing. So let's do these appearances and then you can go... do whatever you want to do. All right? Emma and I have a vacation to Paris planned for the weekend, I don't want you to mess it up with this... whatever this is. Jesus," he shook his head again, before turning from me and walking away. He looked back a few times, as if he was anxious I was going to follow him and harass him.

I let him go, and I stood there, alone. I took off my mask, crumpled it in my hand. It took everything I had in me not to start crying in public. I tried not to think about it, but instead the memories of this morning came back to me, replaying in my head.

I'd woken up with swollen eyes, the night before like a haunting phantasm polluting my mind. I willed it to be false, to have hallucinated or dreamed the whole thing. But I knew I hadn't. It was very real. And every second I was awake, my child was in danger.

I almost immediately knew what I had to do. I knew Logan. I knew that if he caught so much of a hint of what was going on, if he had any inkling that they were blackmailing me, or much worse holding his daughter from him, he was going to fly into a blind rage. He was going to kill, and in the end all three of us were going to pay the price. I couldn't let that happen. And there was only one way I could think of to ensure that didn't happen, even though I loathed myself through every single second of it.

_We'd sat down to lunch together. We'd gone to a cafe, just a simple place with salads and sandwiches. It was an ordinary restaurant, on an ordinary day, and I was sweating under these extraordinary and unforgiving circumstances. I'd wanted to be somewhere public, to remind me to stick to my own narrative and make sure neither of us got too emotional. I didn't think Logan had guessed what was coming, because he was a little too casual, body language relaxed._

_"So, what was up last night, Jeannie?" Logan asked me, eating a fry off my plate._

_I swallowed heavily. I had a chicken salad sandwich in front of me, but every bite tasted like a mouthful of lead. I'd taken one, then given up on it. I took a sip of water and tried to will myself to look up at him._

_"I...uh, I met with a lawyer. It um, it turned out Scott had hired her," I started, clearing my throat._

_Logan rolled his eyes. "Why'm I not surprised. What'd she say? Why were you so upset?"_

_"Well," I said, taking a deep breath. I had practiced the lie in the mirror several times. I wasn't a natural, that's for sure. For once, I wish I'd had some of Emma's talents of deception._

_"She was there to serve me with divorce papers. And she said she'd talked to Scott, and that he hadn't wanted to do this, he'd really wanted to make this work, but he felt like he had no choice. And Logan, there was just... there was something about actually seeing those papers in front of me. Something so final. It just made me think..."_

_I paused, and stared down at my sandwich. I didn't want to do this. Please, don't make me do this, I thought silently to no one._

_"Ya thought what?" Logan asked, a tinge of worry creeping into his voice. He'd stopped eating now and was watching my face intently._

_I swallowed hard again. I took a deep breath. I couldn't bring myself to raise my eyes._

_"I... I thought about all of it...I thought long and hard..about my marriage with Scott. All the good times we'd had. How we committed to each other and... uh...how I had broken that commitment and it wasn't really fair. It wasn't really fair what I'd done and maybe... you know, he deserved a second chance."_

_I stopped talking, sat there in silence, unable to look at him._

_"You serious, Jeannie?" he asked softly, and this time I knew his voice sounded hurt. And incredulous. "After everythin' that guy's done? After how unhappy you were? I mean, it doesn't even have to be me. If you're not ready... I get it. I can give ya space, I can give ya time. Whatever ya need. But don't go back to him if he ain't makin' you happy, Jeannie, look at me," Logan said._

_I looked up, and felt the tears welling in my eyes._

_"I care about ya darlin'," he said. "I can't change the way I feel, and I can't... I can't make you want somethin' you don't. But I can tell ya that I want you to be happy."_

_"I'm sorry Logan," I said quietly. "I am so, so sorry."_

_Logan stared back at me. He looked hurt, confused. Concerned. And he looked at me with love. That was the worst part of it. I wish he'd thrown the table or waved his claws around or told me to go fuck myself, but no. This was worse somehow._

_"Listen... I just want you to tell me straight. Is that it? I mean, is that it for us?" he asked. I could feel the pain start to roll off him and I felt it like a dull headache. God, how I hated having to do this. How badly I wanted this to be over, how difficult it was to push the lies out of my mouth. I wanted to tell him I wanted him too, I wanted the things he wanted, I wanted all of this. But I kept my mouth shut and let his heart break._

_"Yes," I said, and repeated, "I'm sorry."_

_"Okay," Logan said, and there was a heaviness, a resignation in his voice that was almost physically painful to hear._

_"Okay?" I asked, quickly wiping the tears away with the back of my hand, glancing at him to see if he meant it._

_"I never thought I'd have ya for long," Logan, giving a sad, lopsided grin that quickly faded. "I been prepared for this since we got together, to be honest. Hey, Red, don't cry."_

_Tears ran freely down my face as I stared down at my cold food. I didn't want to embarrass myself in public like this so I quickly wiped them away with a napkin and looked anywhere but Logan, until I felt in control of my emotions again._

_"Look... no hard feelins', okay?" Logan said. "An' I'm gonna do my best to move on. I know I was too persistent before, buggin' ya, and not takin' no for an answer. That's done, I promise ya. If we've been through this much, been this far and your mind's made up. I got it, I know it's real Jeannie. I want you to have this."_

_He pushed something across the table at me. It was a small, folded, velvet cloth. I looked down at it, looked back up at Logan, eyes questioning. He shrugged and the half-smile returned for a second, then faded, leaving his face almost ashen. I carefully unwrapped it, and inside was a beautiful diamond ring. It was very simple, a slim silver band and a single setting. I didn't know much about jewelry but this looked real, and expensive. Logan had probably put some time, thought, and money into it._

_"I was savin' it," he said. "But either way. I want ya to have it. Just... you know. If you remember what we had. Like a memento."_

_"You were going to propose?" I asked. I slipped it on my finger. It fit perfectly. I admired it for a moment before suddenly catching myself, taking it off again and putting it back in the cloth. "I can't accept this Logan."_

_"C'mon," he said. "I get it. I'm not tryin' to be an asshole or keep ya here if you don't want to be. But I got no use for it. Keep it. If you don't want, give it someone who does. But it's yours Jeannie."_

I reached into the pocket of my costume, and I felt the ring there, smooth and hard. I hoped I would still get to wear it someday. If we lived that long. I sighed, looking up at the streetlights in the studio lot. The crowd had rapidly thinned out. I was alone, except for a single janitor pushing a trash can and mop. It was dark, the taping had started around 9pm and it was probably close to 11:30pm by now.

Breathing in the cool night air, I jogged to my car, parked it near where Scott and I had come through a portal, and instantly I was back in Krakoa. I made sure no one was following me as I walked into the hatchery. I looked around, but it was a silent, still night.

I badged in, and ran to Echo's isolette. I took her out, breathing a sigh of relief as I held her in my arms. As I rocked her and fed her, fear and doubt began to creep into my mind. Logan didn't know what was happening. He seemed like he'd bought my story hook, line and sinker. He believed I'd really gone back to Scott. Did that mean-- was he going to seek out comfort with someone else now? He'd been so understanding, telling me he was going to move on, when all the while I was screaming on the inside that I didn't want that, I didn't want that at all. But how could I blame him? He was technically a free man. And I knew Logan didn't have any shortage of admirers who would be willing to try and heal his bleeding heart. Probably while naked. I gritted my teeth.

The thought of Logan seeking solace in some other woman's arms made me livid, and now more than ever, as I cradled Echo and watched her curious eyes roam my face, I felt a burning hatred for whoever had done this to me. I thought of Logan touching someone else, kissing someone else, holding someone else and it made my blood boil. I realized the anxiety, the stress and the sheer exhaustion of the situation was getting to me. I didn't want to do all this alone, it was too much. I didn't want to shoulder this whole burden by myself. If only there were a way I could tell him. But there wasn't, none that I'd thought of yet, anyway.

"I'm sorry they dragged you into this," I said softly to the baby. Somewhere between the last two days I'd started calling her Echo, simply for lack of a better name. Part of me didn't want to name her out of fear I would lose her, part of me thought that should be something Logan and I discussed. So Echo it was, at least until there was another solution. And there would be, I told myself. Don't give up. Echo waved her arms and legs around like she'd just figured out she owned them, which was probably true. I held her against me, rocked her gently in the chair, and I before I knew it I felt my own eyelids getting heavy.

_I was dreaming. I was at home with Logan. It was our home, I could feel the simple joy of it in my heart. It was a plain home, nothing big or fancy, but it felt comfortable and bright. I was sitting at a wooden table with Echo in a high chair next to me. She was older, maybe about a year of age. She had a head of thick, dark hair and mischievous blue eyes. Logan was standing at the stove, and there was the sizzling sound of bacon. It smelled delicious. I smiled, watching my daughter waving her arms, eyes focused on the kitchen._

_"Dada!" Echo yelled. "Dada, dada, dada!"_

_"Yeah baby," Logan said with a grin, turning over the slices in the pan with a pair of tongs. "I know, I feel the same way I'm cookin' as fast as I can."_

_I used TK to move the cheerio box into my hand and dumped a few more on her tray. She laughed as she smashed them gleefully with both hands._

_"She's got an appetite like 'er old man," Logan called from the stove proudly. He was wearing jeans a flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up. His face looked relaxed, contented._

_"Yes you do, don't you," I said, kissing her on the cheek. As she babbled and spread cheerio debris flying in all direction, I walked over to the stove to go pour her some more milk._

_"Hey Jeannie," Logan said, turning away from the bacon and turning his attention to me. He nuzzled my neck, and I laughed, swatting him off._

_"Your bacon is burning," I told him._

_"Mmm," he said, undeterred, wrapping a hand around my waist. "Whattya say Red, if we can distract the starvin' beast over there with breakfast, maybe you an' I can get a little alone time."_

_I started laughing, "Okay Logan, she's going to finish her food in under a minute,"_

_"Not a problem," Logan grinned, raising an eyebrow, and I laughed._

_"All right there, cool down," I said, "I know you think I came over here due to your unstoppable animal magnetism, but actually, Echo's cup was out of milk. So. Excuse me." I pushed him playfully out of the way, opened the fridge and picking up the container of mild. "I'm coming baby girl," I said, glancing back at Echo._

_The high chair was empty._

_My heart stopped in my chest._

_"ECHO!" I screamed._

I jolted awake, heart pounding away, confused and disoriented.

For a second, I didn't know who I was, where I was. As soon as I realized I was in the nursery, I'd panicked that I'd somehow dropped or suffocated the baby. I glanced down in dread, but there was Echo, cuddled in my arms, fast asleep, breathing evenly. I let out a huge sigh of relief, and realized I'd been sweating. I felt uncomfortable. Then I realized there was something soaking through my uniform top. Carefully putting Echo down, I realized it was milk. It was my milk. My breasts felt full, and It had leaked through my bra, through my costume, and was now quite obviously staining the front of my chest. Without any changes of clothes except a drawer full of onesies, I guessed I was going to have to walk home like this.

"What the fuck," I groaned, trying not to jostle Echo enough to wake her. "As if this couldn't get any worse. Great. This is great. Just awesome."

It was like my body was adding insult to injury. This was my baby, even though I had no memories of pregnancy, or birth-- still, here she was, and she was mine, and my body was reacting as if it knew that she belonged to me. I realized how exhausted I was, how I probably wasn't all that safe to be holding a baby right now, and should put her back into her isolette. I held her a long time, looking at her tenderly before I placed her back. She barely stirred.

I left the double doors feeling empty, shivering a little as the second door closed behind me. I didn't know how late it was, probably far after midnight.

I took two steps, and suddenly the hair on my neck stood on end, and I felt a tingling in my spine.

I wasn't alone.

My adrenaline surged as I glanced around, frightened. I opened my mind, but found nothing.

"Hello?" I called out, as my voice echoed in the empty space.

Silence. And then, a presence declared itself.


	11. NIGHT 10 - PART 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _So I know, I took a little time to post this, because of work. But I'm back, and I'm here to give you some damn good drama. We've reached a turning point here, and yeah sure maybe I just liked riffing off of "New Dawn," but at the Chapter 10 mark (which I split into a twofer) we're moving from nights to days. So look out for your very fist hint of daylight in the next installment. Fangirl wise, I'm also pretty cheery because even though X of Swords is complicated as fuck and I'm busy trying to figure out who the hell is from where doing what with who (listen, I have an advanced degree and I can't figure wtf is up with Marvel storylines sometimes), they HAVE NOT RUINED Logan/Jean yet! Hallelujah! It's a Marvel Christmas-- er, Halloween miracle! I thought for sure they'd eff this thing up five minutes from when they started it, but... keep up the good work guys. Let us dream. LET THEM BE! And pics or it didn't happen. Anyway, I digress. Your chapter awaits._

"Who's there?" I called again, trying not to sound frightened, but the only sound was my voice echoing around me.

I wrapped my arms around myself in the cold, mouth suddenly dry. I shivered. The temperature had dropped and I felt the chill deep in my bones. The night was still and quiet around me. The only light was from the eerie amber glow of the resurrection pods. I cast out a net with my mind, scanning for someone, anyone--but I felt psychically blinded. I heard the the sharp crack of a twig, and I whipped my head around. I saw nothing but darkness. It was a moonless night, and in every direction after only a few feet my vision faded to an inky black.

There were only a handful of people who could shield themselves this well from me, and I wasn't looking forward to running into any one of them tonight.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" I commanded, anger starting to creep in behind my fear. I'd had enough of people fucking with me this week to last a whole lifetime. If someone was here to kill me, they better hurry the hell up and get it done fast.

A shape melted out of the shadows, and I let out a huge breath of air I'd kept in my lungs as I made out the facial features of the tall, powerful-looking man who appeared and I realized exactly who it was.

"Erik?" I asked in surprise.

Magneto stepped into the light, and greeted me with one hand open.

"It wasn't my intention to scare you Jean," he offered by way of apology. I stared back at him, half apprehensive and half pissed off.

"Oh, really? I'm alone out here at God knows what hour, and you thought," I gestured around me, "...lurking around in the dark would be, what, relaxing for me?" I snapped. I wasn't actually angry at him in particular, just tired and frayed in general. "What are you doing out here?" I asked, suspicious.

He looked me up and down. I blushed and crossed my arms over my chest, plainly aware of my state of disarray. Then I stared back at him defiantly.

"You're quite the mess, my dear, aren't you?" He mused, although there was a quiet kindness in his voice. He was looking at me with something like pity, and I didn't like it, not one bit. "Walk with me, will you, Jean?" he asked.

Erik did always have a way of avoiding any line of direct questioning, but I wasn't in the mood for any more of these games.

"No," I said, drawing back from him, "First, tell me why you're here. Why you knew I was here. Do you know about--"

"Yes," he hissed, quickly shushing me, face flickering from light to shadows for just a moment, raising one hand to silence me. "I know. I know about it. All of it. Here is not the place to discuss it, understand?"

I stared at him, eyes searching his face, feeling shocked, angry, hopeful.

"You do? You know--" I started.

"We can't talk here, it's not safe," he interrupted quickly, taking me gently by the arm and guiding me onto a dark path that headed away from the hatchery, out into the forest.

"Where are we going? Where are you taking me?" I asked uneasily, allowing myself be led, but not entirely confident I was making the right decision by following along.

"Jean, I know it's not easy, and perhaps not your first instinct, which I can't fault you for knowing our history, but you're going to have to trust me," Erik replied evenly, as the dim light of the hatchery disappeared in the distance.

I figured I didn't have much of a choice at this point and I was too tired to protest, so I let myself to be led out into the wilderness of Krakoa. Magneto and I were on the same team... weren't we? It was hard to know anymore, there were so many questions, so much suspicion and confusion swirling together my mind. And on top of that, I was exhausted, tired of shouldering the weight of everything that was happening on my own.

We walked for a good ten minutes or so in silence over uneven terrain, just the crackling of leaves and grass beneath our feet. I didn't recognize where we were going, but then again the island shifted often enough that I might not have known even in the daylight. At last Erik slowed, his hand falling away from my arm, and I could see him moving aside dried brush in the dark. I wasn't sure how he knew where he was going in the pitch black, but as always, his body language was confident and he seemed assured.

"What is this place and where are we, exactly?" I asked, teeth chattering from the cold, as I saw the familiar glint of metal under his hands, where he had cleared away enough dead shrubbery for me to see a door.

He turned towards me, profile silhouetted in the dark, and grinned. "Welcome to my home here Jean. My real home, here on Krakoa at least."

Strangely enough, a part of me wanted to laugh, wanted to roll my eyes and say, of course. Erik always had a thing for secret bases and lairs, Asteroid M coming to mind as perhaps the most large and complex. He'd even hidden out among us as Xorn at one point. The fact that he had some enigmatic hideaway stashed in the wilderness of Krakoa made perfect sense. In an odd way, it gave me a sense of nostalgia. Things had seemed so simple years ago, back when Magneto had been synonymous with villain. Good and bad. Black and white. I felt I'd been innocent back then, naive. I was an X-Man, logo bright and shiny, a bright eyed young superhero, just trying to make things right in the world. Oh how I'd grown, and how it had all changed. Everything had.

With a gesture of his hand, he willed the metal to open, and it complied with a screech. Metal-- of course, a smile almost curled my lip. I imagined how uncomfortable it must make Erik, to be essentially stranded on an organic being without an ounce of the material he depended on for almost everything. But he, like most of us, had apparently found a way to make it work. He had brought his element with him, so to speak.

I ducked inside the metal doorway, traveled through a short passageway that looked crude and simple, just carved out dirt, but then opened onto a spectacular sight. It was a large dwelling, a merging of metal and classic Krakoan architecture. It was simple, but effective; he had a table, chairs, a small kitchen area, several beds built into grooves in the floor lined by braided roots, and a hallway back to what I assumed was a bathroom or shower. The lighting was made from bioluminescence, glowing orbs scattered over the walls and ceiling, but it cast a warmth about the place that made it look almost homey.

"Impressive, yes?" Erik asked wryly.

"Honestly...it is," I said. "I had no idea you had this here,"

"Most don't, and I prefer to keep it that way," he replied simply, shutting the door behind us with a clang. I gave a little start of surprise as I felt him wrap a blanket around my shoulders, "You're shivering. Here Jean, sit down. Let me give you at least some of the explanation you so sorely deserve."

I sat down at one of the chairs at the metal table in front of me. Erik hung his cape on a hook, strolled into the kitchen and asked, "Tea?"

"Why not," I said reflexively. I was freezing cold and a hot drink sounded good. I was still looking around in wonder at the unusual architecture of his hybrid Krakoan hideaway, until suddenly I thought better of his offer and asked, eyes narrowed, "I'm sorry, what kind of 'tea,' exactly?"

Magneto chuckled, "Oh my dear," he said. "Old habits die hard. I of all people should know. But I will assure you that this time I am on your side. I am not your enemy. If I was, you wouldn't be here. Alive."

"Thats very reassuring," I said sarcastically. "It this your way of telling me it's plain old English Breakfast?"

"Grace, class, a sense of humor in an omega level mutant," Erik mused. "I always had a soft spot for you Jean, for all those reasons and more. Never could understand why you were always so taken with Wolverine, of all people," he said with a roll of his eyes. "It's not English Breakfast, it's one of Krakoan's own. Oh, nothing like the petals. No drugs, no side effects. Just a slightly bitter flavor, but tastes very good when it's sweetened a bit. Rather suits the mood, don't you think?"

"Why not," I replied, sighing. At this point, being drugged or poisoned could probably only make things better. And he had a point, Magneto was a powerful and intelligent man. If his goal had been to take me out, I likely wouldn't be sitting here, his blanket over my shoulders, waiting on him for tea. But then again, that intelligence and planning could also lead to a game of cat and mouse and I wasn't yet sure that scenario wasn't what I'd stumbled into. I remained wary.

"I'd like to take off my helmet, I'd be more comfortable without it," Erik continued casually, as if we weren't two people having a conversation about a forbidden secrets in the middle of the night inside a hidden base, but instead just two old friends having a leisurely teatime. "I suppose you would feel more comfortable too," he said, giving me a pointed look and raising his eyebrow as he stirred the tea.

"I would," I replied truthfully. My telepathy was like a sixth sense to me; not being able to get a read on him was making me slightly nervous.

"As I've asked you to trust me, I would also like to at this point, entrust myself to you. I don't mind if you read my intentions Jean, but please don't go looking farther," Erik said, tapping a finger to his forehead lightly. "It won't end well. For either of us. That's not a threat, just a reality, because I would be in just as much danger as you. Do I have your word?" he asked, using a hanging root to add more water to the mugs, and heating it over a small metal grill. It really was quite amazing, and had it been under any other circumstances I would have wanted the full house tour.

"You have my word, and just so you know, Erik; I don't read people's minds on my own moral and principle." I sat up straighter, "You're not getting anything more than the general courtesy I would extend to anyone," I responded with finality. I wanted him to know that despite his efforts to charm me and convince me he was somehow on my side, I wasn't yet free from reservations. Removing the helmet would be a small token, and a step in the right direction for us.

He looked at me for a moment, gave a small nod of his head and removed the helmet, placing it on the wooden countertop.

"What do you see in him exactly, Jean?" he asked, taking out a jar of honey from a shelf and drizzling it leisurely in the tea. He hadn't asked if I'd wanted any, and I had a feeling Erik was always in a more comfortable role leading rather than serving.

"In Logan?" I replied. I opened my mouth to answer and then stopped myself, "Why do you want to know?"

Erik brought over two cups of tea, in metal mugs, and placed one in front of me as the steam rose up. It smelled fragrant, almost like freshly cut roses.

"Because," he said, pulling out the chair and sitting across from me, "No matter what we do, you two seem to end up pulling this tragic Romeo and Juliet routine over, and over. So whatever it is that exists between you, can't fathom. I certainly say I can't see what you see in that hairy little brute, but it's obvious you two have some connection that goes quite a bit deeper. It's been quite exhausting, really, keeping tabs on you, chasing you two down every time. Of course, it's a little different this time, isn't it?"

I stared at him.

"What on Earth are you talking about?" I asked, genuinely bewildered.

"Oh yes. Well that part seems to work just fine. The selective memories that is. Jean, I know it's probably hard to shock you after everything you've been through, so I won't preface this with any fancy soliloquy, but you should know that this is now the third time that you and Logan have... er, shall we say, been ill-fated star-crossed lovers."

"What does that mean?" I asked him, pulling the blanket tighter around myself. I was using telepathy to read him now, and I was doing it as deeply as I could without having him consciously feel it, and I could tell, from what I read, his intentions were in fact genuine. He didn't mean to harm me. He wanted to tell me more than he was going to be able to. I couldn't see more than that, not without him being aware that I was carefully tiptoeing around in his head.

"I'll tell you a little story, Jean. As you know, there are certain people in certain high circles, who would like to maintain a specific way of life. A specific narrative for Krakoa, and the Krakoan people. There is immense pressure to show the world that a sovereign mutant nation can not only survive, but thrive. For...these people--and yes, I was once one of them so forgive me--these certain circles became aware that individuals could be altered; improved, if you will, during the resurrection process. And they decided to use that to their advantage."

"Are you trying to say... you'd kill people, just to bring them back after manipulating their memories?" I asked, disgusted.

"Yes," he answered seriously, his expression contrite. "That wasn't clear to me at time that this started. It wasn't how it was supposed to be. But it has become clear to me now. You and Scott were the face of this island, the backbone if you will. We wanted you together, happy, because it showed that Krakoa worked. And you yourselves, you wanted to be together, happy. So the first time your eyes wandered towards Logan, and this surreptitious romance began, we thought we were doing both you and ourselves a favor by...resetting everything. Starting again and giving everyone a fresh shot, to try and make it work this time. To try and be better."

"You KILLED us?" I asked shocked. "Me and Logan? You killed us so I'd stay with Scott?"

"Well... you, yes Jean. Logan as I'm sure you know is hardier than a cockroach; we didn't actually fully terminate or resurrect him, just harmed him enough to subdue him and sent him to the body shop for some memory alterations, if you will. But yes, it's been the same, each time. We covered with stories; you were off on a retreat, a mission, until you could be reborn, ready to try again. That's how it all went. Until now."

My heart ached for Logan. Not only because I knew exactly how much one would have to "harm" him before he was "subdued," but also because his mind, fractured, and bent, felt like such vulnerable part of him. At the same time, alarm bells were ringing in the back of my mind and I was recalling conversations, ones that seemed innocuous at the time. Logan and I had been talking one night, and he'd told me about something that had been bothering him. Domino had asked to keep the difficult memories of when she had been captured and tortured, if she was ever resurrected. She'd told him, with conviction, that she wanted it to remain a part of her. However, when she'd come back, they'd been erased. It bothered him, for obvious reasons, but at the time I'd defended it, pointing out that maybe she'd changed her mind, and ultimately they were her memories and therefore it was her prerogative if she'd changed her mind. Now looking back on that conversation, I felt a chill up my spine and I doubted she'd made such a decision on her own at all. How widespread the implications of what Erik was telling me were just beginning to sink in; it was too much to comprehend all at once.

"Why... why I am I here now, then?" I asked Erik. "If you've just decided kill me and remake me every time I stray from this damned marriage I keep trying to end, why am I alive this time? What's different?"

"Oh my dear," Erik said sadly, his face looking solemn and "You know. You know that part quite well."

"Yes. Yes, Echo," I said softly, feeling a pull in my chest.

"Mm, is that what you've been calling her? I figured you might not be ready to give her a proper name yet. This...what we've been doing with you two, it's never involved an infant before. And that, for me, crossed the line. I know this has crossed many lines in retrospect but, the child. She's one of us, a mutant. And she deserves parents. She deserves a childhood. They were going to take that away from you, and this time, this time I decided I couldn't let them. That, Jean, is why you are here."

"And the other children?" I asked, feeling the fire surge behind my eyes.

Erik wouldn't meet my gaze.

"I am one man. I'm risking a lot, to do this for you. But if all goes according to plan, those children will all go to their rightful parents."

"And what about the lawyer?" I asked. When I said it I saw something-- fear? Spark in Erik's eyes. I was surprised. He was perhaps one of the most fearless men I knew, and I wondered what it was that had triggered the response.

"Jean," he said, face serious, putting both hands over mine and looking me in the eye. "She is dangerous. She is not who or what she seems. You must be very, very cautious, avoid her entirely if you can. Do not engage her. Eventually. She will be dealt with. I wish I could tell you more, but, as I said, it will only put us in more peril than we're already in." He removed his hands from mine, sighed, and stared into his tea, deep in thought.

If all goes according to plan. IF all goes according to-- whatever plan this was, that couldn't be communicated to me, apparently. That was quite an "if," for what were essentially castles in the air right now. And this was huge; not only was my child at stake, all of Krakoa was at risk. I picked up the mug of tea, held it between my hands, warming them. It was a lot to digest, but it in a twisted way it made sense. Why it was so important to keep things secret, because if anyone else had known about us, it would have taken a lot of explanation if we'd suddenly shown up the next day unaware we'd ever been in love. How Scott had been fed the line about an open marriage, to keep him partially in the dark. I wondered if he'd been manipulated too. As I drank the tea and thought things over, Erik got up, walked over to a shelf and pulled out a notebook. My eyes widened as I recognized it. I knew exactly what that notebook was, it was my mine. My journal. But my journal was hidden in a locked door, in a desk in my room, in our compound on the moon. And this journal, which looked identical, was covered in dirt, soiled. It looked like it had been through a war. He handed it to me. "I wanted you to have this. It was personal; it doesn't belong with me. And if you had any doubts about the veracity of my claims, this might help put your mind to rest."

I took it from him, laid it down before me and opened it. The pages were stuck together with dirt, it had water damage and-- blood? I tried to ignore the rust colored stain on the top. On the first page, in my neat handwriting it read:

_"Night 1. What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? It's called the irresistible force paradox, and it's always what I'd felt would happen one day, in some way, between Logan and me. If we ever collided, really, would there be anything left but ashes? That scared me. The answer scared me, but the question lured me in. And yet, there were always barriers. Scott. Our geography. Our lives, our deaths. But tonight, we were talking. Talking about the past. About old friends, old enemies. It wasn't anything special. We got to talking about X-Force, joking about logical Sage was, about how Black Tom was going off his rocker, just talking. Then...I don't know quite how to explain it, that energy that's always been between us. The conversation paused. We looked at each other. Logan leaned in, and he kissed me. It was a very simple moment, very natural. He immediately told me was sorry, it was just an impulse, that I'd looked so beautiful sitting there, sitting with him on the cliffside outlooking all of Krakoa with her wild, glorious bloom. I told him not to be sorry, because I wasn't sorry, and I felt it all slip away. The guilt, the old self I'd been holding on to. Neither of us said a single word. The sun was setting, it was almost all the way down, and there in the dusk, he kissed me again, and I kissed him back. And that's how it started."_

I shut the book, my mouth dry. Because despite that being my handwriting, I felt like it had been written by a stranger. Another me. Because that wasn't how it had started between Logan and I. Or, it wasn't that way it had happened in the memories that I had, not this time at least.

"I do apologize," Erik said, clearing his throat. "I don't make a habit of reading people's diaries," he offered, taking a sip of tea and then putting the mug down. "I certainly didn't read the whole thing when I realized what it was; I was asked to burn it, destroy it. Instead, I kept it, to give you as evidence for when this day arrived, as I knew it might."

I put the journal down, staring at its yellowed and muddied pages.

"So. You know about the nursery," I began, trying to concentrate on what was important right now. So much was going in, I needed to keep this focused. "You know Logan and I have a baby together. And you... you want to help us to take her home?"

"Yes," Erik replied, looking me in the eyes. "Yes. In some way, to right the wrongs for which I've been accountable. I'm not a monster my dear, though I know you may think contrary to that. I am not. I'm a mutant, I'm a man, and my decisions, which were made for the best of reasons, did not always have the best of consequences."

"So you have a plan? A plan I can't be debriefed on yet, I understand. But it exists. This plan." I queried, finishing my tea, setting down the mug on the table. It had helped, I wasn't freezing cold anymore, my head felt slightly more clear.

"I do," he confirmed. "I can't tell you everything. Not yet. But I can tell you this; we will need Logan involved. And I'm counting on you for that. I believe it will work much better if you tell him than if I do. I've never had much luck controlling his...proclivities towards vengeance or violence."

I gave Erik a dubious look. "I've wanted to tell him. I have wanted to tell him more than anything," I said, feeling the sadness swell in my voice. "But If I tell him, he's going to run straight into the middle of this, he's going to kill everybody who gets in his way and he's going to bring us all down with him. And then this, us, Echo, all of it was for nothing."

"Indeed," Erik said, giving a wry smile. "You do know him well Jean. I'm well aware of the risks. But precisely because of that, I know you'll find a way around it, or at least a way to soothe the beast, so to speak. Enough to have him thinking with his rational mind instead of his claws. I'll need him involved but I can't have him ruining the delicate balance of things I've put into motion. Can I trust you to take care of that?"

"Yes," I replied, starting to think. For the first time, I felt... hope? I could finally tell Logan what was going on, I could throw away this charade that I didn't love him. I could get our baby back. And Magneto, for better or for worse, was a powerful ally. If he truly meant what he said, we had a chance. Together, we had a chance to fix this, to make it work. I took a deep breath, a wave of dizziness and fatigue washing over me. I almost felt sick to my stomach with exhaustion. "I don't mean to intrude, but... it's late, and I'm tired. I don't feel safe out there, not right now, not after this. Is there any way I could--" I asked haltlingly.

"Sleep here? Of course, you are a more than welcome guest," Erik said, gesturing to the beds by the wall. "Take whichever you prefer. You'll be safe here Jean. I promise."

I was so exhausted I crawled into one of the soft pods on the floor, the blanket still around my shoulders, and immediately fell almost immediately into a dreamless, restless slumber.


	12. DAY 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Rise'n'shine! We have officially switched from nocturnal to diurnal, and hit the middle of our story. I cannot tell a lie. I've been waiting to write this chapter for two weeks, just because it was fun to make up head canon every time reality got boring (which is very, very often). But I'm also kinda missing the hotness so I need to get 'em back together. Angst has been fun, but I need them back together soon. Don't change the channel, more to come._

BANG BANG BANG!

My eyes shot open. I felt like I'd been sleeping the sleep of the dead but something ear-shattering had awakened me suddenly. BANG! BANG BANG!

As soon as my eyes were open, I looked around and was hit by complete and utter confusion. Where was I? I was looking up at a dirt ceiling with roots coming through, framed by bioluminescent lights. What was this? What had happened last night? And most of all, who in the hell was making that annoying sound?

It took me a second before the events of last night came rushing back to me. I turned my head and realized the banging sound was coming from the door. Someone was knocking insistently on the door. I remembered all at once; I'd fallen asleep at Magneto's place, and now someone who was evidently not a morning person had shown up, and sounded pissed. I saw steam floating from the open hallway I'd noticed earlier and a second later out strolled Erik, who had evidently been taking a shower, with his white hair plastered back against his head, a towel around his waist, and his jaw clenched in displeasure.

I sat up in bed just as he wrenched the door open, and looked out with undisguised annoyance.

There stood Scott, hand raised as if he were about to pound on the door again, on his face an expression of surprise.

There was a moment where the two men just stared at each other, Erik wet and half naked, Scott startled with his hand poised in the air in the midst of a phantom knock, each evidently as dumbstruck as the other.

"May I help you?" Magneto asked, emphasizing each syllable in a display of aggressive politeness.

"I uh... I... oh," Scott began. He cleared his throat, the puzzled expression plain as day on his face. "Is uh... is Jean there?"

"And if she were?" Erik asked with thinly disguised displeasure, standing unmoving in the doorway. The two men stood at almost the same height, but Magneto's presence was unmistakably intimidating and I could tell that Scott had not been prepared at all for who had opened that door. It was almost enough to make me smirk. All right, I was definitely smirking a little.

I got up from the bed, joints still stiff from sleep, and stood hovering behind Erik, who gave a quick glance back and then looked back to Scott, unsmiling.

"Hello Scott," I said. "Do you need something?"

"Jean!" Scott exclaimed, giving me the once over. He looked at Magneto in his towel, and then back at me in my wrinkled, disheveled uniform. His expression then turned to horror, as I realized I still bore the less-than attractive milk stains over my breasts. I couldn't have cared less. Let Scott think whatever he damn well wanted to. The worse the better, I thought spitefully.

"What...what the hell is going on here?" Scott demanded, his expression of shock almost comical.

"I'm sorry," I said, "Why are you here exactly Scott? And perhaps more importantly, how did you know I was here? Have you been tracking me?"

"I...well, yes...the tracking, the GPS tracking on your phone," Scott stammered, eyes darting back and forth between myself and Erik.

"Sounds to me as if you were stalking, at least that's what I would call it." Magneto asked coldly. "Did you have her permission to find her location?"

My feelings were usually quite ambivalent about Erik, but truly, I think for a moment I loved him dearly.

"Well-- no," Scott admitted, caught off guard and now on the defensive. "No I wouldn't have done it except we're late, we're late and I needed to find her. We're going to be in trouble."

"Late for what?" I asked, annoyed.

"Mojo in the Morning, Jean!" He said, exasperated. "I told you yesterday, remember? Jesus, what has happened to you lately? You've always been this punctual, responsible woman and now.. now this? Whatever this is? What is this Jean?" Scott demanded again, face red. I was definitely enjoying this a little too much.

Erik took a step forward and Scott took a step back.

"I would think carefully before choosing your next words, Mr. Summers." Magneto drawled, a menacing smile slowly spreading across his face.

I didn't want to break up this comedy of errors, if anything because the look on my soon to be ex-husband's face was more priceless than gold. But despite that fact, Scott had a point. I did need to continue to make these exasperating media appearances to continue to fulfill my role in the contract and keep Echo safe until whatever grand plan Magneto had cooked up could be set into action.

"I'm sorry Scott," I said, breaking the silence and offering an olive branch. "I... there was a lot on my mind, and I did forget. But yes, give me just a moment, and I'll come with you so we can make the talk show. Agreed?"

I shouldn't have, but I just couldn't help myself. I turned towards Magento. "Erik, I'm going to shower as well,"

"Of course my dear, as you wish," he replied. Giving Scott a tight smile, he slammed the metal door in his face with a satisfying CLANG.

As soon as the door was shut, I couldn't help it, I started laughing. Magneto looked somewhat amused himself, and sighed.

"I never could stand his self-righteous prattle," Erik commented calmly, disappearing into back into the bathroom and returning in a robe. "It's all yours, Jean. There are fresh towels on the right."

Once I was slightly more presentable, and had actually gotten some sleep, I felt ready to face the media onslaught once again. I drove with Scott to our appearance, and was amused to find that he was completely silent the whole way there, staring straight ahead at the road. I could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. I thought about explaining the situation to ease the tension, but instead I opted to relax in my seat, watching the scenery fly by. Sometimes, silence really was golden.

As I sat on the cheap wooden set, playing Cyclops and Marvel girl, America's Sweethearts, holding his hand, smiling sweetly and staring lovingly into his eyes while the cameras rolled, I ground my teeth. I needed to get through this, get through it as quickly as possible in order to go find Logan. As I'd showered back at Erik's place, I'd come up with a plan, a way to tell Logan that hopefully wouldn't end in disaster. I decided that I needed him far away from anyone, or anything, when the truth came out. I needed a buffer zone. Not only would this guarantee privacy in our conversation, I would have time to stop him, if it came to that. I was hoping it wouldn't come to that, but I knew I would do whatever I had to do.

I'd needed to change into a clean costume once we arrived at the taping, and for some reason the only thing wardrobe had available was one of Storm's old uniforms, so I was stuck walking out in a tight black leather jumpsuit and cape that made no sense whatsoever. The audience still went wild, they didn't care as long as they had their mutant entertainment. We played it off as a joke, but I could tell this annoyed Scott a great deal, and to be honest it was incredibly uncomfortable to wear. I reminded myself to ask Storm how she managed to sit down, much less conjure lightning in this damn thing. I kept tugging at the sides, and it was giving me ridiculous cleavage. At least I seemed to have stopped producing more milk, which was one saving grace.

As we walked off the set together hand-in-hand, waving and smiling to the studio audience, Scott was quiet and I could tell he was brooding.

"Penny for your thoughts," I said casually as he dropped my hand and moved away from me.

He looked at me, brow furrowed, looked away, and then looked at me again, opening his mouth like he was about to say something and then shutting it.

"I guess not," I said with a smug smile, which he didn't return.

As soon as I was back to our complex on the moon, I ran to my room, changed into a fresh uniform. My heart was beating so fast I felt like it was going to burst. After all this fear, this burden of truth, hiding everything I was about to get it all back on course. And most importantly, I would finally be able to talk to Logan. My best friend, my confidant, and now the father of my child. My hands were shaking as I quickly brushed out my hair, splashed water onto my face, and unlocked the door between our rooms.

I opened it wide and said, "Logan I--" before stopping dead in my tracks.

The scene before me made me do a double, and then a triple take.

First of all, the room smelled like an open bar. The odor of alcohol was so strong it almost stung my eyes. Logan lay, passed out, face down, in boxers, in the middle of his bed. And on either side of him were two young women, one sleeping topless with tights on, the other wearing an untied bikini top and some sparkly hip hugging hot pants that left nothing to the imagination.

I stood and stared, my mouth open, eyes wide. Now, I am aware I have a temper, but I am not usually the type of person that loses my head, or flies off the handle, or yells unless it's warranted. Even when I'm angry I usually manage to keep it relatively together in the moment, even through difficult circumstances. But in this case, I was not that person. I lost my shit.

"WHAT IN THE FUCK?" I yelled at the top of my lungs.

Logan's head immediately lifted off the bedspread, a small string of saliva hanging from his mouth as he cracked one eye open just a little bit. "Jeannie?" he slurred, followed by, "Oh damn, my head. Ugh my goddamn head," he winced and held both hands to his forehead. One of the girls also stirred, opened her eyes, blinked, and looked confused. Then she looked at me, and her expression turned to terror.

"Hey- uh-- are you--Marvel girl?" she asked haltingly, holding her hands up defensively. She looked young-- maybe in her early twenties, and she looked terrified. Good. she should be.

"It's none of your goddamn business who I am," I said to her acidly. "But you have five seconds to get the hell out of here before I show you exactly who I am and what it is I can do."

I telekinetically picked up the clothes that I assumed belonged to her from the floor and flung them at her, knocking her back onto the bed with a startled cry.

"Woah-- Jeannie, woah," Logan said, head still in his hands. "Calm the hell down Red, I've got one hell of a hangover right now."

"I'll deal with you later!" I yelled at Logan. The other girl had woken up, mascara leaving her with raccoon eyes, gave one quick glance towards the first girl and then back at me with fear in her eyes. She had gotten the message and was scrambling to get her shoes on.

"I am going to count to three, and if you aren't gone by then you'll all be leaving in a body bag," I yelled, and this certainly seemed to inspire haste. The two girls were falling over each other picking up clothes.

"Please don't hurt me!" The one who had just recently woken up started to cry, as she stumbled over her friend in a bid to get out the door as fast as possible. She was still topless. "I'm a fan!"

"Fake tits, Logan? Classy," I said, arms crossed, jaw set. He was sitting in the center of the bed, head in his hands, looking half annoyed, and half like death was about to take him. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen Logan that particular shade of green.

"Jesus Christ Jeannie, I can't take your crazy shit this early or this hungover," he groused, "Leave the poor girls alone. You got somethin' to say to me, say it."

That did it. If something in me had snapped before, it had gone to completely unhinged. The women had left, leaving one glittery stiletto and a black bra behind.

I grabbed Logan telekinetically and lifted him up.

"Oh, I have something to say to you all right, you piece of shit! You have NO IDEA what I've been through. You have NO IDEA what I have to say to you!" I yelled through tears.

"What the--" he managed, and then his words were choked off as I held him suspended in the air, by his neck.

"After EVERYTHING I did for you," I cried, as he stared at me, expression stunned. "You have no idea, you have NO IDEA!" I screamed. "All you had to do was not fuck up for ONE DAY Logan! One damn day! And this whole time I was-- I was--"

I couldn't say it. It stuck in my throat. I couldn't say out loud what I was thinking, that I'd been caring for our baby, I'd been shouldering the blame, I'd been weathering the stress, I'd been trying to keep us all safe, but I couldn't tell him. Not yet.

Then, as Logan struggled against my telekinetic grasp, I saw more movement in the bed, and suddenly a long scaly body, purple head and blinking eyes appeared.

"Wha- Lockheed?" I said, so surprised that I accidentally dropped Logan, who fell back on the bed with an audible grunt and a string of curse words. He was immediately back on his feet, crouched in fighting stance, and he looked pissed. Well guess what, Wolverine, so I am I, I thought acidly.

I lifted up both my hands, gathering TK energy.

Logan's claws appeared as he growled at me, "I ain't gonna fight you Jeannie, but I'm warning you cut this shit out. Right. Now."

"Fuck you, and fuck your excuses," I spat back it, and lifted one hand...

Only to feel an icy cool presence slip quietly around my brain, wrapping it completely. It was like an icicle had just touched my soul, and I was rendered temporarily mute and paralyzed. I would know that frigid psychic signature anywhere. I lacked the ability to turn around, but I heard the voice come from behind me.

"If you could keep the fight to the death down a little, some of us are trying to get our beauty rest," Emma said dryly.

"Let go Emma," I hissed. "You know you're no match for me."

"I'm aware," Emma replied crossly, still inside my head. Her presence felt like telepathic Xanax; I could tell she was trying to calm me down. I couldn't think clearly, my movements were slow. "This may surprise you, but I'm not looking for a fight-- none of us are-- Logan, put your claws away you idiot, what are you going to do, slice up your little ginger dream girl?" She rolled her eyes at him and then turned back to me. "Listen, Jean, I'm trying to stop you from harming yourself or anyone else, and that's it. I think you're about to do something you might regret."

"What the hell is it your business?" I asked, finally whipping around to face her.

"I wish it wasn't," she replied. "But since Scott's beside himself mooning around all morning with the news of you and Magneto, I'd rather not have buckets of blood to clean up in here when I've already got quite a headache and it's not even noon."

"What do you mean her an' Magneto?" Logan asked in angry confusion. "What the hell is going on right now? Has everybody lost their goddamn mind?" Lockheed was crouched behind him, looking very much like he wished he hadn't ended up in this situation. I agreed with him on that.

"I have nothing to explain to you after... this," I yelled at Logan, and then turned back to Emma. "FINE. Fine Emma."

"Come with me," Emma said, for once her voice didn't carry any malevolence. She led me back into my own room and closed the door.

"Listen," she told me. I refused to look her in the eye. "I don't know what you're going through, darling. But it seems hard."

I turned and stared at her. Had she really just expressed...sympathy? Sympathy without judgement? Was this really Emma? 

"You don't need to look at me that way, so surprised" Emma said rather crossly. "I'm not a complete demon Jean, really. I do in fact have emotions. I just happen to hide them well. And I don't hate you either, since that's what you believe."

"Stop prying in my head Emma," I replied curtly.

"Sorry, force of habit," she replied, waving it off. "Now, am I annoyed by you? Yes. Tired of hearing about you from Scott? Oh God yes. But I don't despise you Jean. I really don't."

"In that case, thank you," I said, quietly, staring down at my hands. As much as I hated to admit it, and I did hate to admit it-- I hated it a lot, Emma was a hundred percent right. I didn't know what had gone on with Logan last night, although I certainly had a few educated guesses the worst of which included foursome with two college freshman and a dragon, but I was about to do something I regretted and what I had needed most was just to cool down.

There was a soft knock on the door.

I said "Go away, Scott," at the same time that Emma said, "Go away, Logan."

We glanced at each other and then at the door as it continued to open slowly,

"Uh, since I'm neither of those people is it okay if I come in?" Shadowkat asked, framed in the doorway. She took one look at our faces. "Wow. It looks like something's going on. Listen, I'm sorry, if this is a bad time I didn't meant to interrupt. I was just looking for Lockheed."

Emma and I glanced at each other again.

"Do come in," Emma said quickly, "And close the door behind you."

Kitty stepped in the room, an apprehensive look on her face, "Listen guys, whatever's going on, it sounds serious. Jean are you okay?" she asked, apparently looking at my tired, angry, tearstained face and concluding that this was not my best day.

"Not really," I responded honestly. "And Lockheed is next door, in Logan's room."

"Oh thank goodness," Kitty set, letting out a sigh of relief. "I thought I'd lost him after that crazy night."

"What crazy night?" Emma and I both asked at the same time. Kitty looked at us wide eyed.

"I mean-- not that crazy. Not for X-Men. I mean, crazy like, partied a little too hard. Crazy like, Logan drank the tank," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Drank what? What are you talking about Kitty?" I asked.

"You guys want the whole story? Jeez, ok. So. Logan was a mess yesterday, and he wouldn't tell me why, although, you know, Jean maybe I should ask you why," Kitty responded, narrowing her eyes at me.

"Why is this somehow my fault?" I asked indignantly.

"Well I can't CONFIRM any of this... but, Logan came to me a while back, we had a quick drink on my ship. And he was happy. LOGAN WAS HAPPY," Kitty said, staring daggers at both of us. We both returned the gaze.

"And...?" Emma said, looking bored.

"Right then and there, I thought, oh lord, he's gotten himself into something with Jean. What else is going to make him act like this, from all growly and menacing to playing with children and smelling flowers and smiling? I know him too well. That's Jean right there. And I knew, I knew right then and there it was headed for disaster. And then, when he comes to me heart obviously crushed to smithereens but he won't tell me why, and I just knew it-- there it is. There's the disaster. Right there," Kitty said, pointing to me.

"Now hold on for just one moment," Emma said angrily before I could react. "How dare you insinuate whatever... whatever happened was Jean's fault. You don't even know what's going on. Keep your innuendo to yourself."

Both Kitty and I seemed very startled by this. I almost couldn't believe my own ears. Emma, defending me? The world had in fact descended into madness. That or I had reached a whole new stage of pity in which I appeared to be such a trainwreck that even Emma Frost became protective of me. I hoped it wasn't the latter.

"All right," Kitty said, holding up both her hands, "All right, that's fair, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bash you out of nowhere Jean and I don't know what's going on because no one will tell me. But the point was, Logan was obviously heartbroken. By someone who will remain nameless. So I decided to take him out, try to make him feel better. So I took him to this bar I'd heard about, bar that's really popular,"

"You went to a bar?" Emma asked.

"It uh, it actually turned out to be a strip club," Kitty said, her face beginning to turn red. "Which, listen, that was not my fault, that was a Yelp failure. Neither of us knew until we got there. And there was a party going on, like this wasn't a classy establishment, this was a whole rock'n'roll scene that made me scared to go to the bathroom by myself. And they had this thing there, called 'drink the tank,' and it was literally like this 10 gallon fish tank filled with liquor. And whoever could drink the most would win, and--"

"Logan drank the tank," I said, a statement, not a question, putting my own head in my hands and shaking it slightly. Of course he did.

"The WHOLE THING," Kitty confirmed, eyes wide. "I mean, everybody was cheering. There were definitely some Wolverine fans in that bar. Some female Wolverine fans who weren't shy about it, if you know what I mean. But after he had finished that tank, he was like, blackout. Seriously, he wouldn't move. Out cold. So me, and some of the girls from the bar tried to get him home. I dropped them off at the door, and made sure he was still, you know, breathing..."

"That's who the girls were?" I asked, looking up at Kitty incredulously. "So they were strippers. But they were just... being good samaritans?" I asked skeptically.

She stared back at me, "Wait...is that why _you're_ so upset?" she asked me. "You think Logan... Okay, Jean I know you guys don't want to tell me whatever's going on, for whatever reason, but if you're freaked out because you think Logan was banging strippers last night-- pardon my language-- let me put your mind at ease. I'm pretty sure he was clinically dead from alcohol poisoning until.." she checked her watch, "Probably a couple hours ago."

"Jesus," I said, holding my head in my hands. Could anything go more wrong today. But at the same time, I had to admit, I felt relief wash over me as well. I had immediately assumed the worst, and almost ruined everything in the process.

"I need to talk to Logan," I said, standing suddenly, and Kitty and Emma stared at me.

"Are you sure that's a good idea right now?" Kitty asked, looking dubiously at me.

"You did just try to kill him," Emma pointed out.

"You tried to WHAT?" Kitty said, staring at me with shock.

"Look... I appreciate this... all of this. Emma you were right, I needed to cool down. But I'm okay. I promise."

They both stared at me.

"I promise!" I repeated, slightly annoyed that my mental stability was truly this unbelievable, as they looked at each other. Kitty gave a small shrug as if to say, I tried.

I got up, and knocked softly on Logan's door.

"Yeah, come in," I heard a weary growl on the other side of the door.

I walked in quietly, and took a deep breath.

"Logan, I'm sorry," I said.

He was sitting in the middle of his bed, and he looked like death.

"For what?" He asked. I opened my mouth, closed it, then cracked a smile, and I saw a faint smile back from him.

"Can I uh-- excuse me-- uh-- can I--Lockheed?" Kitty asked politely, edging her way through the door. At the sound of her voice, the dragon flew over and happily crawled onto her shoulder, laying across and nuzzling her cheek.

"Okay!" Kitty said. "Awkward! I'm done! Gonna go now guys! Bye! Good luck Logan!" she said, giving a little wink before quickly making her exit.

Logan and I looked at each other. Just being close to him again, feeling his presence... it did something to me. I couldn't deny that pull that always existed when we were together. I just wanted to crawl into bed with him, and let him make me forget everything we were so angry about, forget my own name. I longed for it. I wondered if he could see in my eyes.

But that wasn't what I was about to do. It couldn't happen that way. I could only hope that Logan could sort out what I was doing follow my lead.

"Why're you here, Jeannie?" Logan asked wearily.

"I...I just came to say I'm sorry for losing my temper."

"That's all?" Logan asked, something like hope in his eyes.

"That's all," I said, and staring at him hard, I spoke directly into his head.

_Logan, I need to tell you something important. It's not safe here. I need to you to run. Go somewhere safe, somewhere far from here. I'll find you._

Logan's eyes widened at this, and then he looked confused.

"I'm sorry that I chose Scott, but we both know it was for the best," I told him out loud, staring back, willing him to just trust me on this.

_As soon as I leave, go. I promise I'll explain it all. We are in grave danger._

"Ah... okay Jeannie," Logan said slowly, looking around and then back at me. "I uh, I guess I respect yer decision, even if I don't like it," he said in an unconvincing tone.

_You need to make it believable Logan, there are eyes and ears everywhere._

"Fine," he growled. "I mean, if you wanna waste your time on pencil-dick over there, I don't give a shit. Just leave me the fuck alone will you?" he snarled.

Well, I suppose he'd taken me seriously when I told him to make it realistic.

"You don't need to use that kind of language with me," I told him tritely. "I can tell I'm not welcome here, I'll be leaving now."

 _I love you Logan_ I told him.

All of the longing, all of the pain I'd experienced, I put it in those words.

I saw his eyes dim, soften, connect with mine. Just for a moment. And in that moment, I knew he loved me too.

Then I stalked out, slammed the door, and I did the hardest thing of all that day. I waited.


	13. DAY 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Soooo did you guys vote? I hope everybody votes. GO VOTE! Tuesday's it, last chance. Anyways, Jay, from Twitter showed me the biggest UGH. Marvel trying to spread a rumor about Wolvie and Storm. First off: I love Storm, she is a sexy badass. She's loyal and strong and smart and gorgeous...but the sexual chemistry between her and Logan is as spicy as a four day old boiled potato. It's almost as bad as the left-in-the-sun mayonnaise sandwich that is Jott. Now, friendship-wise, I do ship RoLo all over. There's a deep respect that runs between them but...sexual chemistry? Like wanting to jump each other's bones? No Marvel. NO. Stop trying to make RoLo happen, it's not happening. They're amazing friends, you leave them be! Honestly Storm is not crazy enough to work with Logan, she needs somebody more level headed to join in her chill earth-mother vibe. She needs, like, somebody royal. She does not need Logan's psycho in her life. But Jean-- now there, and fine I may be biased, but-- there's the fireworks. I stan crazy Jean with every beat of my heart, I stan her hard. She and Logan were meant to fight and fuck and love and hate and create beautiful literary tomes with their I-failed-anger-management altercations. I totally get her. I identify with her on, like, a white-hot-room type spiritual plane. Please don't ask why, heh. ALSO, lest I forget, shout outs to my lurkers (may your lurking forever reign) and also Elise, Erin, Lisa, Team5ds, medred, MAB, Jay and Sherridin for their awesome reviews, I LOVE IT! More positive reinforcement than I ever get at work or home, anyways. So, we move to a Logan/Jean two person broadway play about to unfold, basically. Read on._

After a night of restless sleep, slipping through dreams and nightmares like quicksilver, I set out for Logan at first light.

When I'd told him he needed to go somewhere safe, somewhere far from anyone or anything, he took me seriously. And if there was a man alive who knew where the most lonesome, desolate and forgotten places existed, it was Logan. It was difficult for me to track him, and even harder to hold a psychic lock on him. His mind kept fading in and out, and it was more like playing a poorly directed game of hot and cold than reading a map, but I didn't give up. By the time I got to him, it was midday and the sun was burning hot, a low-hanging burning ball of orange against a dusty sky in the middle of nowhere.

I had no idea where I was. I'd exited several portals, faced several false starts and I'd travelled so many miles I wasn't even sure what direction I was heading in anymore. I'd started on foot, I'd flown partway, and now I found myself climbing up the side of a short, rocky mountain after hiking through acres of dense forest. I realized by this point I probably should have dressed for an expedition rather than in my costume, which afforded little to no protection from the elements; but it was too late. I pulled myself to the top, and sat down to breathe. He was close, I could feel it. I looked to my left and saw a a crevasse. If I hadn't have been looking I wouldn't have realized it; but it was the entrance to a cave.

 _Finally_ I thought, mentally exhaling. My muscles aching, I stood up, and walked over to the entrance. I had to duck a little to get inside, but then the area expanded and was quite roomy.

Logan was inside. He was sitting in the cave, his back against the rocky wall. He had on his full uniform, but when he turned to see me, he took off the cowl in one sweep. He ran his hand through his wild shock of hair, his blue eyes locking onto mine. Without moving or saying a word, still slouched against the wall, he looked up at me with a bleak expression that made my stomach tighten.

"Hey," I said softly, walking farther into the cave, until I was standing across from him.

"Hey," he responded, deep voice echoing faintly.

"You know I have something to say, but... you look like you have something to say first," I offered hesitantly, walking closer to him.

"You usin' your powers?" Logan asked, the ghost of a smile on his face.

"No. I just know you," I replied, slowly sliding down against the opposite cave wall until we were toe to toe, both sitting, facing each other. To tell the truth, I wasn't sure what it was going to be like between us, alone after everything that had happened. I had to remind myself that he had no idea about what I'd been through the last few days; all he'd known was that I'd dumped him for Scott, nearly killed a couple strippers and then told him to get lost in the wilderness because our lives were mysteriously, vaguely in danger. I couldn't imagine what was going through his head, but I couldn't imagine it was anything good. I couldn't imagine that I looked like any kind of a good guy at this point.

"Jeannie... Listen. I love you..." he began, avoiding eye contact.

I sat quietly, not moving, not blinking. "Jeannie, I love you but," I finished for him, staring straight at his face. He didn't return my gaze.

He gave an audible sigh.

"Don't make me say it," he replied, "I love ya but, I can't keep doin' this. I don't wanna keep doing this," he said, voice flat. He still wouldn't look at me.

"This, as in, us?" I asked, squeezing my hands into fists tightly, willing myself to breathe.

"This crazy back an' forth, Jean. This playin' me against Scott, this... this is playin' me, Jeannie. I ain't stupid, and I ain't a patsy. I'm not just gonna sit by an' get taken advantage of, no matter how much I love ya."

"I'm not playing you Logan," I responded, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. "That could not be farther from the truth."

He looked up at me and his eyes flashed with annoyance, anger. There was hurt, too. I realized it was foolish of me to think I could fix everything without consequences, to think that things done could be easily undone. It was never that simple.

"Then what is this, darlin'? Because you tell me you wanna be together, and then all in one night, ya change your mind. I've loved ya for decades. Almost since the moment I laid eyes on ya. And this time, this time when we were together, it felt so... felt so fuckin' real this time." I could feel his whole body tense.

I knew Logan didn't like to talk about his emotions. I knew it was hard for him, and I the fact that he was pushing himself to do it now either meant that he was trying for us, or he was preparing to end us. I didn't know which it was.

"Goddamn it, Jeannie. It just... It felt real. I thought this was it. This was the thing I've been searchin' for for God knows how long. Who knows how many centuries, whatever time it took me ta get to this place in my life, with you."

"I felt the same... I still feel the same," I pressed, trying to reach one hand out, but he shrank back from my touch.

"Then you're lyin'," he responded, harshly. I could tell he said it out of pain, but it didn't make it sting any less to hear.

I didn't want to continue down this path. I needed to face my own fears, and tell him what I'd brought him here for. Even out the playing field a little, lay it all out and then let him decide if I, if we, were worth it or not. Mentally, I tried to steel myself, to open the words I'd kept locked up so tightly, and let the truth out.

"You're right. I am lying. I did lie, Logan. I lied to you, because I had to," I said, voice raw.

"Whattya mean, you had to?" he asked, caught off guard. His voice was a growl. I could tell, his defenses were up.

"I was blackmailed," I said simply.

There was a moment of silence between us, and I knew Logan hadn't expected me to say what I'd said, nor had he comprehended it.

"Blackmailed?" he repeated, staring at me as if I were speaking a foreign language. "You were blackmailed? By who?"

"That night," I said, hands around my knees, looking past him, staring at the rock wall of the cave to keep myself from being distracted or overcome with emotion. "That night I left for the hatchery. It happened then."

"You met with a lawyer," Logan continued. He was looking right at me now, like he was trying to solve a puzzle. "Or did ya?

I shook my head, swallowing hard. "I don't know. I don't... I don't know who she was. Or what she was. Or if it was really even a she, or more of an it. I thought... I thought she was a lawyer though, at first. She did try to make me sign a contract."

"What kinda contract?" Logan asked, gaze sharpening further, his eyebrows were screwed up like he couldn't believe half of what I was saying, or make sense of it. That made two of us. I could tell he'd switched into hunter mode and was listening carefully to every word I said, sniffing out the truth, the lie, the subtext beneath the words.

"A contract that said I wasn't allowed to be with you-- at least not romantically, and that I had to keep up public appearances with Scott."

"What in tha hell?" Logan said, sitting up straighter and staring at me like he thought I'd lost my mind. I almost wish I had. "What kinda bullshit is that?"

"That's what I said too, at the time," I agreed. "It was crazy. It was bullshit. I wasn't going to sign it. I got up to leave, and she told me to come back because there was something I needed to see before I walked out."

"What'd she show ya?" Logan asked, suspicion creeping into his voice. He was following along with the story now, and he knew that whatever it was she had on me, it had to be something big. Still I couldn't imagine he ever would have suspected just how big.

I took a deep breath. I'd run over again and again in my mind how to tell him. None of it was easy. But I had to try. This was my one and only chance.

"Logan," I said, "Look at me. Please."

He acquiesced and looked me in the eye, his blue gazing into my green.

"When you killed me," I started, speaking slowly and softly, reaching one hand out to touch his fingers. "I was pregnant."

I could see Logan's eyes widen, his pupils constrict. He had a physical reaction, he jerked back from me.

"No..." he said. "No... that can't be..what the hell. What the hell are ya sayin', Jean?"

"Yes," I said calmly, trying to keep the same even tone. "There was no way you could've known, Logan. I didn't even know. I had no idea. It was so early, too early, it was... it's not your fault. It's not. We didn't know."

"No," he repeated, eyes darting around in panic, bringing his hands up to his head. "Fuck, no, Jeannie. Don't tell me that. It was ours? No, no, no. This can't be. This can't be, ah fuck."

"Logan," I continued, reaching out and putting one hand on his knee. "She's alive."

Logan's gaze instantly snapped to attention and he stared at me. "Alive?" he asked, dumbfounded, as if he hadn't even heard me. He was staring at me, mouth agape; he looked wild, confused, edgy. I could feel the adrenaline flooding him, the despair, the confusion, the suspicion like an inky cloud covering his mind.

"You and I have a child together. And she is alive, Logan. They rescued the embryo, after I died, and they grew her, the same way they grew us. She's still a newborn, but she is the most perfect, beautiful baby I've ever seen in my life. And she is alive," as I said the last word, squeezing his hands in mine, a tear slipped out and ran down my cheek. Even talking about her, even now, I wanted to hold her.

"The fuck..." Logan whispered, looking at me, eyes beseeching. "God... are ya.. yer serious, Jean? This ain't some story? This is real?" He demanded, still staring at me like he'd seen a ghost.

"This is the truth," I said with conviction, feeling the crushing weight on my chest lift somewhat. I took fresh air into my lungs, like I could breathe again for the first time in a long time. "I am telling you the truth."

"We..." Logan started, staring at me. "We... have a baby, Jeannie? Holy shit, we have a baby. We-- wait, why? Why didn't ya tell me?" he interrogated, voice almost angry.

"Because," I said licking my lips, "I was told, by that 'lawyer,' by that bitch, that if I told you, our baby's life would be in danger. So I had to make a choice. I made the choice to protect her. Logan, I never stopped loving you. Never."

Logan's expression suddenly changed, from shocked and wary to understanding. He took my face gently in his rough hands.

"Aw, no. Jeannie, baby..." he said, in that low voice, and at the first note of sympathy, I crumbled. He tilted my chin up in a practiced gesture and kissed me on the lips, and I leaned in, eager to lose myself, lose the sorrow I'd been holding.

"Jeannie," he said again, breaking off the kiss, and he didn't sound angry anymore, he sounded astonished, hopeful. Then he took me into his arms, embraced me against him. He was so solid, his arms were strong, secure. It felt good. It felt good to have that comfort.

"I'm so sorry, darlin'," he whispered into my hair. "I'm so sorry ya had to go through all this'."

I didn't say anything. I was tired of talking, I was tired of leading, I was tired of being strong, and I just wanted to be held and loved and most of all, understood. We stayed there, in that lonely cave, locked in a silent embrace, for a long time. We finally pulled apart, and I quickly wiped away tears with the heel of my hand.

"Hey..." Logan said, a grin on his face, "Yer wearin' the ring."

I'd almost forgotten, in the midst of all this, but yes, I had put it on before I started the journey.

"Does that mean..?" he asked lifting one eyebrow.

"Yes, I will marry you," I said, laughing at what a mess this was. Literally and figuratively. My nose was running, my costume was torn and dirty from the journey. I was about one wrong move away from a breakdown and we were sitting in a desolate cave in some godforsaken empty country. This was really not how I thought a proposal would go. This was not the instagram ready proposal I'd accepted from Scott all these years ago. But that fit my life then. Maybe this fit my life, now.

"Jeannie-- We have a little girl?" Logan repeated like he couldn't believe it.

"Yeah," I said, attempting to wipe at my face, pulling my tangled hair back into a ponytail. "It's crazy, isn't it? It's insane. Sometimes I'm not sure I even believe it, but I've seen her, I've held her. I've been calling her Echo."

"Pretty name. Why Echo?" Logan mused, reaching out and tucking away an errant strand of my hair behind my ear.

"It's uh... it wasn't exactly my idea. I wish I could tell you I was being creative, but when they showed her to me...well, all the babies, they had name tags on their isolettes."

"What kinda names?" Logan asked, and his voice bore the hint of that dangerous tone I knew too well. He was too damn sharp for his own good sometimes, even at times like this. It's why he was the best he was at what he did, but right now, it was veering into territory I was hoping to avoid. At least for a little longer. But I'd also vowed to myself no more lies.

"They..." I hesitated, momentarily halting, but then proceeding with the truth. "They were labeled by ICAO designation."

He stared at me, long enough to make me feel uncomfortable.

"What the hell were they doin' with those babies, Jeannie?" he asked me.

"I don't know," I said, holding my hands up. "I mean-- nothing good. It's not a good situation, and that's why I'm trying to get her out, without any of us getting hurt. I don't know who the rest of the babies belong to. I just needed to protect Echo, I needed to protect her first."

"Yer damn straight we gotta protect her, maybe nobody told you what they're doin', but this is a story that's all too familiar if ya ask me," Logan growled, a gathering thundercloud escalating in his mind. "Ya give someone a designation like that, it's for one reason. To dehumanize 'em. And why the hell do ya think they need to dehumanize a bunch 'a newborn orphans, Jean? 'Cause I can think o' the most obvious one."

He was right. I knew it, and he knew it. But he wasn't seeing the bigger picture, and more than anything that was what I needed from him right now.

"Listen Logan, if we are going to do this right, I need you to calm down, okay? There's a plan," I said, resting my hands against his chest, trying to placate him enough to listen to reason.

"Whose plan?" He retorted, eyes flashing, and I knew I was treading thin ice.

"Magneto knows about this, he came up with--" I started, before Logan cut me off.

"You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me," Logan snarled. "Magneto's helpin' us out? More like throwin' us under the goddamn bus the second he has a chance. I don't trust that asshole farther than I can throw 'im. He hasn't exactly been buddies with me lately since I stole his helmet, and if ya really think he's gonna help me next time he sees me rather than strip my adamantium an' leave me there to die, ya musta been born yesterday."

"No, listen, Logan, just listen," I pleaded. "Erik genuinely meant what he said. He let me in his head, I saw it, I saw his intentions. He's done with the part of the Quiet Council that allowed this, he's trying to help us. To help all of them. We can't do this alone, it's bigger than the both of us."

I was hoping that Logan would see reason, but that hope was thinning.

"Magneto wants ta help. Yeah, wants to help 'til it becomes a hindrance then just watch him turn into the two faced fuckin' snake he is." Logan spat. "That man's rotten to his core. Ya trust him Jean, or ya trust me? 'Cause it can't be both of us," Logan retorted. "I don't give a shit what he said, we gotta get her out and we gotta do it now."

"Logan, STOP--" I said, raising my voice.

"We gotta go, Jeannie," he said urgently, grabbing my hand and standing, and I could feel the anger burning at the edges of his mind, threatening to engage the beast.

"Logan, listen to me," I said, grabbing hold of his arm and pulling back. "LISTEN. You can't do this."

"Ain't the time to listen, it's time ta act," he said, roughly shaking me off.

"Logan, dammit, this is why I didn't tell you in the first place!" I yelled at him, voice echoing off the walls. "Because of this! _You_ made me lie!"

He stopped in his tracks, and stared at me, confused.

"Please...Don't make me stop you, because I will," I said in a quiet, strained voice, despair filling me. We stood facing each other, him and I.

"Say it again," he demanded, standing stock still.

"Say what?" I asked him, even though in my heart, I knew.

"That's why ya didn't tell me, isn't it Jean," he said, voice strained. "The real reason. Not because some lawyer was threatinin' ya. Because you didn't trust me."

"Tell me I'm wrong!" I shouted back at him. "Look at the way you're acting. This isn't going to save Echo! This is going to get us killed, this is going to get us all killed, Logan! You can't control your temper. It's not the first time we've had this argument and it probably won't be the last. But I will not let your recklessness get her hurt. If I have to die trying I will."

Logan stared at me like I was a stranger. He had an odd mix of emotions running through him, and even though I wasn't actively trying to read him it was so strong I felt it move through my own body like a cold sweat.

"If ya can't trust me Jeannie, then what are we?" he asked plaintively.

I didn't reply. We were standing now, face to to face, alone in the semi-darkness of the cave. I saw Logan's profile in stark relief as he looked away from me.

"If ya can't trust me to help you with this.." he started, the stopped. I couldn't read him. I didn't know what he was trying to say, or why he was having trouble getting it out.

"Then what?" I asked him. I was full on flight or fight, ready to stop him, ready to die, as we stood there locked at an impasse.

"Then how do ya trust me to be a father to our child," he finished. Then he gave me a brief, furtive glance with guilt stricken eyes, then pulled his cowl back up, turning away from me. Shutting himself off from me. I could tell what he was doing. Logan was too vulnerable right now. Wolverine was not. He would face imminent death, face terrifying beasts and monsters, teeth and claws, bullets and swords, but he didn't want to face this. For him, this was harder.

"Logan.." I said, voice faltering. Slowly, I reached out one hand to touch his shoulder.

"Jus' leave me the fuck alone, all right?" came his rough voice. "Get out while ya still can. The body count o' the women I've loved is high enough already. I don't need ya included. Just go," he intoned, emotionless. "I ain't good for ya, and I sure as hell ain't good for a baby. Ya don't have to say it. We both know it."

My fingers halted, inches from his skin.

"No," I said softly, the word filled with tenderness.

I made contact, pressing the pads of my fingers against his bicep. He didn't move. He didn't flinch, but he didn't turn towards me either.

"No," I continued, focusing on the small contact between us. "It's not just a baby. It's your baby. She is yours. And I'm yours. And you're mine. I'm sorry Logan. You can't run from this, and you can't hide from it. You're stuck with us. Get used to it."

He turned his head towards me sharply. "Don't touch me Jeannie. Don't do that."

I ran my fingers slowly up his shoulder, moved carefully closer to him.

"Leave me the fuck alone Jeannie. I don't deserve this. Any o' this. I don't deserve you. I don't deserve a daughter. You've seen my other kids. Everybody's fucked up. I wasn't there for 'em, and when I was it didn't do 'em any good, I..."

"Hey," I said, moving in. Carefully, I put my hands around his shoulders. He felt like a block of stone. "Hey... this is different. She's a baby. You're going to be there for her. You're not going to disappoint her, you're going to love her, like you love me. You're a good man Logan. You are a good man. You have a good heart. It's why I love you."

"Fuck, Jeannie, don't do this," he said, his teeth gritted.

"What's that you said to me? So long ago, when were facing death for the hundreth time?" I continued, leaning into him, "You and me against the world? Yeah. You were right. You were right all along Logan. Be the person I know you are. I love you."

I felt him shudder, and then one arm moved to lock me into the embrace.

"I love you," I said, kissing him on the face, brushing up against his sideburns, pushing off his mask, "We do this together."

He fell to his knees, his face pressed against my stomach, hand against my hipbone.

"I never meant ta hurt ya Jeannie. I never meant to hurt her, my God. If I knew... If I'd known, I swear to ya.."

"Shhh. I know Logan, I know," I said, running my hands through his hair as he held himself still against me.

It was an odd, triumphant, bittersweet feeling. I felt a love for him surge; through him, through me, bonding the both of us. I realized this wasn't just a symbolic gesture. He was submitting to me. He was letting me love him. He was taking the biggest risk, especially for someone whose fierce independence and ability to work alone characterized who he was down to his very bones.

It was new for me too. I had never had something this visceral before, not with Scott. I'd had the pleasantries, the pretenses, I'd had the exterior that was polished, flawless and gorgeous. But I'd never felt it in my blood like this.

But we needed this, this closeness, if we were going to make it. Somewhere we had moved from friends, to lovers, to family. And now it was going to be put to the test, to see if we were ready to begin the most difficult rescue mission of our lives.


	14. DAY 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ah, hello all. Didja think I was dead? Did you think I, you know, decided to responsibly give all my time to my family and job instead of writing amazing sexy fanfic? Shut your mouth! NEVER! I was just creating an epic chapter, it took a while. I had to go back and binge read pretty much everything I'd been missing the last few years to make sure I was current. Anyway; enjoy sweet fans and lurkers. Seeya on Twitter in the meantime, Amandasfire1._

My eyes fluttered open. I saw the sky wide and pale blue above me. I felt my skin on his skin, the warmth of his body against mine. I took in a deep breath of air, letting the oxygen flood my lungs, the faint smell of grass, earth and wildflowers around me. I knew this was the place I wanted to be, this was the feeling I'd waited to soak in. My head swam in that ether between dreams and consciousness and I didn't want to let it go until I absolutely had to.

"You awake?" a rough voice asked, close to my ear, and it sent a pleasurable chill down my spine.

"Mm," I replied in a non-committal way. I didn't want to move, didn't want to fully wake, didn't want to lose this fleeting moment.

"Can we do it again, Jeannie?" he asked urgently.

"Logan... already?" I replied, feigning annoyance.

"C'mon darlin'... don't hold out," he pressed, nudging me.

"Logan, this is the fifth time, let me sleep," I complained, shutting my eyes tight again.

"Yeah, but I'm already missin' it," he pleaded.

"Fine," I said crossly but with a smile, and adjusted myself in the crook of his arm.

He'd wanted to see her again, and honestly, how could I say no?

I opened my mind, and let him inside. I replayed the memory, again, only this time Logan was there with me. Walking up to Echo's bedside. Picking her up. Holding her against me. Everything that I saw, Logan saw. Everything that I felt, he felt. I felt the satisfaction flood his mind like a calming tide as I-as we- looked down at our baby, safe from reality inside that fragile cocoon of my memory.

"Hrm, she looks just like me Jeannie," he said out loud, a hint of pride in his voice.

"She looks exactly like you Logan. I don't even see myself at all. Must have some strong genes there," I mused. "She eats like you too, she's always starving."

"I wanna meet her. I mean, for real," he said, turning his head towards me and kissing my hair.

"I know," I said, sighing and closing my mind with a gentle flutter like the pages of a book, becoming slowly aware again of the present reality. I propped myself up on one elbow, watched his face. His expression was at peace. I'd already replayed that same memory for him multiple times, but I couldn't refuse him, not after feeling how much he loved the idea of us together, as a family. Truth be told I didn't mind it at all. It felt so good to share this with someone else, this avalanche in my life I'd been keeping a secret. Seeing myself through Logan's eyes was always a good kind of ego trip, too. Seeing myself every day in the mirror, all I'd see was ordinary, tired, sad. A collection of tangled hair, pale skin. But when he was looking at me, I was always a red haired fiery goddess, always delicious and magnetic and charismatic. The full-body charge he got when he looked at me, even just the shape of me, made me feel powerful. When he looked at my face, what he saw was flawless. I was the most beautiful woman in the world, to him. And when I saw myself through his eyes, I believed it.

We were lying naked in a field of wildflowers, off somewhere on the edge of the world. It was a far cry from the tumultuous chaos of yesterday. After our fight, after the initial shock had worn off and we'd both had a little time to process, we'd really talked it out. We'd sat, and we discussed the good the bad and the ugly. It took a while to feel okay again, and even after coming to terms with both sides of our stories, it wasn't perfect. I could tell Logan's naturally suspicious side had trouble believing what had happened, even though on the surface he readily accepted my version of events. We had at least reached a truce, and we'd affirmed our relationship, both of which were far better outcomes than the previous day.

Eventually, as the sun began to set, Logan told me he'd had something to show me. I'd told him that it had better be under my nose, because I'd had enough hiking to last me a lifetime, but I begrudgingly followed him.

He led me to a secluded area near the cave.

It was a beautiful swathe of a nature, a large open field bordered by a treeline. It took me a few minutes to realize that he'd planned this. It took me a few more minutes to realized what he had originally planned this for. When he stomped unceremoniously into the edge of the forest and came out dragging a satchel that when opened held champagne, glasses and food, I looked at him confused, then started laughing, then tried to stop before he took it the wrong way.

"Are you... was this..?" I asked, staring at him wide-eyed.

"Ya asked for it Jeannie, remember?" he said slyly, expression somewhere between annoyed and pleased, dropping the collection at my feet.

"I asked for what?" I questioned.

"Ya know, fireworks," he said, shrugging.

"You prepared this ahead of time. This was... this is... for your proposal. To me?" I clarified, twisting the ring already on my finger, and I couldn't stop the smile from creeping onto my face.

"Well yeah, I wasn't plannin' on proposin' to Victor Creed or anythin'. You know I ain't into public displays of affection. And we were still keepin' everything secret, so, I figured place like this would be the best."

"It is the best," I confirmed quickly, hands to my chest. "I love it, Logan."

"Yeah?" Logan asked, a grin raising one corner of his mouth. He looked pleased with himself.

"Yes. This is... beautiful. I couldn't have asked for more, Logan." I'd said. And we sat down, ate, drank, and toasted to us. To playing against the odds. To Echo.

Which brought us to the here and now. I was relaxed, comfortable. Logan had his face half buried in my hair, and my body was splayed over his.

"Honestly, I'm still impressed you had this planned out," I mused. "Never took you for a romantic, Logan."

"Whattya mean'?" Logan said, eyes narrowing, mock-offense in his tone.

"You know," I hedged. "I mean, you're not really the type. You know?"

"Says who?" Logan asked, pushing me off him playfully and crossing his heavily muscled arms over his chest and glaring at me so hard, I starting laughing then covered it with a cough.

"I mean..." I said, smirking at him plainly now, "I take it back... you are most definitely renowned as being one of the most sensitive, suave and romantic mutants history has ever known. When I think romance, I think James Bond. Romeo. Don Juan. And of course, Wolverine."

"Shut up Red," he said, his eyes mouth scowling and his eyes laughing.

"Make me," I taunted back with a smile.

"Okay, playtime's over," he said, rolling over in a single smooth motion and pinning me effortlessly under him. I smiled as I felt his teeth graze my neck, one hand in my hair. With his other hand he ran a hand over my waist, up to my breast, and I yelped without thinking.

"Ah!"

He broke off the kiss, surprised. "Sorry, sorry Jeannie, forgot," he said quickly, tone apologetic.

"No, don't worry... I didn't mean to..." I started.

"Don't worry about it darlin'. It's nice. Ya smell like a milkshake."

I turned bright red, and it was Logan's turn to laugh.

"Look Jeannie, sorry not sorry," he said. "What're you so embarrassed about?"

"I know, I know," I quickly replied. "I just... I honestly can't believe you're not weirded out. I was weirded out, Logan. And Scott...oh God, when I had the stains on my uniform, you should've seen Scott's face."

Logan's questioning gaze and quirked eyebrow were interrupted by a voice that crackled through both our heads like a poorly designed high school PA coming from a loudspeaker and I winced.

 _Jean. Logan. Can you hear me?_ came through the static.

Both of us sat up simultaneously. "The fuck is that?" Logan growled, hand to his forehead.

 _Sage? Is that you?_ I responded in my mind. Out loud I said, "Logan, I think Sage is attempting some kind of telepathic--" I was interrupted.

_Can you hear us? Yes, it's Sage. I'm with Magneto. I've kind of jury rigged what's basically...well, it's basically like telepathic zoom._

_Uh...this is just like an auditory thing, no visual right? You can't see us can you?_ I asked in a sudden panic, tucking my arms over my chest, momentarily horrified.

 _No, no,_ Sage responded reassuringly. _But I do need to let you know there's other people on the uh...on the telepathic call, so to speak. The whole group has been connected, all ten of us._

"Ten?" I mouthed silently to Logan as he stared back at me in surprise. This was a bigger crowd for the resistance than I'd expect. I'd half assumed it was just Logan, Magneto and myself. Obviously, I'd been wrong.

Just then I heard another voice, all too familiar, in my head.

 _Does uh... does dad know about this? The uh...the thing with Uncle Logan?_ The all too familiar voice hesitantly asked, and my stomach did a flip flop.

 _CABLE?_ I asked over the psy-link, arms still crossed over my chest and eyes wide, looking around me as if that was going to elucidate a single damn thing that was going on right now. Logan was staring at me, eyebrows raised.

 _What are you... what on Earth are you doing on here. Sage? Why is my son here?_ I asked, the panic back. What reason would Cable have to know about this, to be a part of this, exactly? I had meant to sit down and talk with both him and Rachel at some point, come clean about what was obviously going on, or not going on between Scott and I, but I just hadn't gotten the chance. Everything had been moving too fast.

 _What am I doing here?_ Cable asked, voice obstinate. _What are you doing there, with Wolverine? I mean he's been hanging out with the family a lot but I just thought you guys were taking pity on him or something. Like doing a halfway-house type thing. You know?_

"'Scuse me, kid?" Logan asked aloud, visibly annoyed. "You're musterin' a lot o' outrage for somebody datin' five girls at once. Yes I'm with your mom, we're both happy, so get the hell over it."

 _Um, I can hear you, you know, Wolverine, and all five of us are fine with that situation actually,_ a voice replied haughtily, and we both looked at each other mouthing "Cuckoo?"

"Ok, Logan, you are really, really not helping even in the slightest right now," I hissed at him, throwing him a dirty look, still feeling painfully naked although I knew no one else could see me.

Logan opened his mouth to reply to me, but before he could answer, an entirely different voice chimed in the telepathic open forum.

_Hey dad nice goin'. Just want to say I entirely approve your choice of stepmom. Smokin'. Might be movin' back in with you guys at this point._

The sly, leering tone and deep voice belonged to one person and we both knew exactly who. It was unmistakably Daken.

"What the--the hell're you on here for?" Logan asked out loud, eyes wide.

 _Hey, you say it inside your head dad. It's called telepathy, old man. You don't need to shout everything out loud like a wierdo,_ Daken replied in a surly tone.

 _Sage, why are there children on the call?_ I demanded, feeling the anger rise up into my reddening cheeks, and glancing at Logan I could tell he was about one taunting sentence away from a berserker rage. Then Cable spoke again.

 _HEY! I'm not a kid, okay? At least give me, you know, young man. You're acting like I'm seven._ Cable complained in our heads. _I'm also not an idiot, it's not like I didn't know SOMETHING was going on, but every time I asked dad, he told me it wasn't my business and I--_ I could hear the sulkiness in Cable's voice which was suddenly cut off by yet a different, familiar voice-- Magneto.

_I apologize for this errant discourse- Jean, Logan, we're still working out the bugs of this communication system, obviously. But for now, it seems to be the only safe and secure method we have to contact each other. I'm arranging a meeting point. Sage is going to directly implant the coordinates into your minds. I know it's short notice, but will all of you be able to be here within the hour?_

"All'a you?" Logan asked, looking at me, and his expression mimicked the way I felt. Disbelief. Panic. 

"When he told me we had allies he didn't specify, but I guess we're going to find out," I answered him cautiously, before replying on behalf of both myself and Logan. _Yes, we can be there._

There chimed in several other telepathic "Yes's", along with a sarcastic _wouldn't miss this shit for the world_ that I was pretty sure came from Daken.

I was still so confused at this point, I turned towards Logan whose expression looked even more confused than mine, as if he really wasn't sure whether he needed to stab something or not.

"Listen, this is as much a surprise to me as it is to you," I told him. "And I did NOT know the kids were involved. At all. I don't know why they are."

"Well, it ain't like it we were gonna stay a secret forever," Logan responded wryly. "Although honestly this probably wasn't the best way to break it to 'em they're getting a new little sister,"

"You're being amazingly calm about this," I replied to Logan in a somewhat accusatory tone. I was definitely not feeling as simpatico as he seemed to be.

"What's done is done Jeannie," he said, shrugging. "Play it where it lays. Maybe we don't know why Magneto roped 'em into this plan, but there's only one way to find out, which is to show up ta this little meeting."

"So is this newfound attitude of responsibility why you pulled out the last two times?" I quipped at him, a cheap shot, and in return he rolled his eyes at me. Unfortunately, I hadn't realized the conversation was not quite as over as I had assumed.

 _Oh God, I heard that._ Cable bemoaned loudly. _I fucking heard that, we're still connected. Jesus, I'm going to need so much therapy. Do you and dad talk like that too? Oh God I don't want to know. I already know too much!_

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, get outta my head kid!" Logan shouted, as I instinctively slammed down all my mental firewalls at once and shut down the communication abruptly. Logan winced.

"Did ya have to shut the car door on my brain like that Jeannie?" he asked, rubbing his skull with one hand and throwing me a sore expression.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, also feeling the same ache of the hastily and enthusiastically severed connection. "I'm sorry, that was uh, not planned."

"Yer kiddin' me," Logan replied sarcastically.

"Well." I said sighing. "I'm kind of liking your original idea of just disappearing off the face of the earth better and better Logan. I am not sure I can ever face anyone again after that."

"Really?" Logan asked, a glint of hope in his eyes that just made me more irritated than I already was.

"Yeah, really, sure, let's just abandon our newborn baby and make a new one Logan, that's a really smashing idea," I said, acid in my voice.

"Okay, point taken. Put away yer big guns, Red, damn." Logan groused. "I get it. It's time ta face the music. I said I'm in, I'm in."

We arrived at the appointed meeting spot a good fifteen minutes late. We stood at the directed coordinates, and there was...nothing. Nothing, that is, except for what appeared to be a massive, old growth tree, standing alone on an otherwise barren patch of land.

"So this is it, but I don't see ten people, 'less Magneto's got an army o' squirrels we don't know about," Logan commented. I shot him a dirty look, still mad that he was handling this so much better than I was. What I wouldn't give to not give a shit for once, and not feel the social pressure surrounding me. It was usually one of the things I loved about Logan, but today I was feeling less than charitable now that I knew both of our children were involved in this mess somehow.

Before I could reply, the roots of the tree began twisting, cracking and contorting. Logan instinctively moved in front of me to shield us and I threw up my hands, TK at the ready, fight or flight flooding my body. However, it soon became clear this was not an attack, but instead an entrance. As the roots continued to uncoil and the bark split, it revealed a doorway, into the tree. We were at the correct location after all.

"Can't trust this damn island," Logan said, shaking his head suspiciously and taking me by the hand as we headed inside.

The moment we entered, the roots immediately rearranged themselves and we were sealed inside. 

I had to blink, as the light inside was dim and mostly emanating from several candles that had been set up on a broad, wooden table that appeared to have been grown in with the rest of the tree. The room was circular, in the base of the trunk, and inside the larger circumference of the room sat the circular table with chairs made of roots about it, also apparently organic in nature. As my eyes adjusted I recognized instantly the seven other people seated.

Magneto. Sage. Daken. Cable, who was holding tight to Esme's hand and looking at me, concerned. Mystique, her expression dark. And someone I certainly hadn't expected to see.

"Emma?" I asked out loud in a startled voice. 

"Hello darling. Look what the cat dragged in. Where did you two head in from, the Appalachian trail? Jean dear there's a dead leaf in your hair," Emma intoned dryly, giving a quick smile which I returned by staring daggers. She was, of course, impeccable, makeup done and not a hair out of place. 

"What are you doing here. What is everyone doing here?" I asked in genuine surprise, pulling several dead leaves from my wild mass of red hair.

"Why're there only nine people?" Logan asked, speaking up. He was already past whatever surprise he must've had for this particular company and had begun sizing up the situation. I had to admit, it was one of his strong points. He was hard to phase.

I looked at him, startled, but realized that he was right. There were only nine of us total, and Sage had mentioned ten.

"Welcome," Magneto said, his usually booming voice somewhat subdued in such a small and enclosed venue. "Please, Jean and Logan, take a seat. This will be the first meeting of the Phantom Counsel, and I believe we will all get what we came here for, which is of course answers."

"Why do we always have to do these stupid theatrical names, like ooh, the Phantom Counsel. Why can't we just admit we're a group of people that royally messed up and got stuck together. Phantom Counsel, more like the Fucked-Up Counsel," Daken commented dismally, one hand on his cheek with a uniformly sulky expression.

"Shut the hell up kid, and let the grown-ups talk," Logan barked at him.

There was a SNIKT as Daken popped his claws, and another SNIKT as Logan followed suite.

"CHILDREN... please," Magneto said wearily, looking pointedly at both Logan and Daken to let them know he was addressing them both, then drawing a deep breath like an exasperated parent. "May I remind you, this is not the time nor the place for your savagery and misplaced bravado. I do believe an introduction is in order, so that we can all get on the same page here. And I will start. I am here because of the Infant Recruitment Program. Yes, I was aware of it before the rest of you were. Yes, I admit I initially took part in it, at least in some small way. However, I've learned my daughter Lorna is the biological mother to one of these babies, and having my own family used for purposes outside of my control is unacceptable. This program is unacceptable. I've brought us together to put an end to it, and together I believe we can. Daken, if you've... composed yourself, please go ahead."

My mouth twisted into an expression of anger. Here, Magneto had acted as if letting me in on his little plan was all an act of charity, because of the empathy he'd felt for my child. Of course, I shouldn't have been surprised that wasn't his motive at all. It was his own blood he was worried about. I quickly glanced at Logan, but kept my mouth shut.

Daken looked around with a sour expression and shifted in his chair before speaking, as he was on the far left of the table. "All right, fine. You all know who I am. I'm here because I knocked some chick up, and one of her babies is in that wierd nursery, and I accidentally found out about it, and now I'm stuck with all of you idiots. Why do I feel like I'm in a twelve step program right now?"

"Probably because you need one, dude," Cable replied, and Daken bared his canines and narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah?" Daken quipped back. "Well why don't you tell everyone why you're here Nate, huh? You're the one with the picture perfect family, aren't you? Oh, except you know, my dad's been fucking your mom probably since before the resurrections, and now we're all about to be thrown into the shithole together. Welcome to the family, bro," he said, throwing a quick kiss in Cable's direction.

"Take that back, you dick! Take it back right now!" Cable yelled, face reddening, his eye glowing brightly and one hand on the gun slung near his hip pocket. "I already kicked your dad's ass, and you're just a D-list copy, so come say that to my face and see what happens!"

"Calm down Nate, you're just taking the bait," Esme said crossly, pulling on his hand, urging him to sit down.

"Okay kid, listen, kicked my ass is a little strong," Logan said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "It was just a sparring match and I'd promised Jeannie I wasn't gonna kill ya beforehand."

"Mom," Cable continued as if he hadn't heard. "Just...WHY are you, like...having sex with Logan... oh I feel like I'm gonna barf. Are you in love with him? Are you still in love with dad? How long has this been going on? Are you guys breaking up?"

Cable was at the age where sometimes, he seemed like a man, and sometimes he still seemed like a boy to me. At the plaintive tone in his voice I felt like I'd been stabbed in the heart as I watched the shock on his face while he threw personal questions at me in front of a room full of people. At the same time I saw Emma and Esme exchanging telltale glances; of course. I get to look like the villain here, regardless of what Scott was doing. Of course.

I wished so badly in that moment that I could just come clean about everything. To tell the truth, I'd tried not to think about when this moment would come. I was honestly more worried about telling Rachel than I was Nate. I'd kind of assumed, what with Logan living in the Summer House, what with him coming with us on every vacation, what with me coming out of his room in the morning, everyone had sort of 'gotten the idea' without being explicitly told. I guess not. I guess I'd grossly miscalculated how we'd presented ourselves. 

"You really think you have a right to bitch about this?" Daken retorted, obviously unable to let this go. "You're the one who knocked up one of the five clones you're screwing. Nice job. You don't have any right to be whining why. You want a reason? Your mom is hot and your dad was a loser, that's why, end of story."

"Wait-- what do you mean you knocked one of them up. Nate?" I asked him, eyes wide, as I watched his expression change from flustered and angry to deer in the headlights. 

"I-- I was gonna tell you mom. And then she..." he glanced at the platinum blonde beside him. "Esme died, and then she got resurrected, and we thought we'd lost the baby...but uh, we didn't! We didn't, it's alive. But we had to sign this agreement saying we weren't gonna tell anyone, and I swear-- I swear I was gonna tell you and dad when I figured out how to do it right. We were trying to be careful but, you know...we slipped up," Cable finished with a shrug as Esme shot him a cross look and Emma's expression turned downright icy. 

"Wait, wait," I said, holding up my hands. "Is _that_ why everyone is here? Does everyone in this room have a baby in that nursery?"

"No," Sage responded. "I'm here to coordinate operations."

"Oh, don't look at me like that Jean," Emma said, rolling her eyes. "I didn't make any of those little urchins, I'm just here to support Esme, she came to me first with this little problem."

I know it shouldn't have, but it felt like another wound. Esme had gone to Emma, but Nate hadn't been able to come to me. Then again, it wasn't as if I'd been particularly emotionally available this past month. I wished terribly that things had been different, but now was not the time to dwell on it.

"Mystique?" I asked, scanning down the line of us sitting at the table, trying to change the subject and avoid the brunt of the hurt, especially while everyone was watching me. I needed to stay strong. I would have to deal with this in private, later.

"Yes. One of the children is mine," she replied dryly.

"Who's the father?" Daken asked, eyeing Mystique up and down.

"Me," Mystique replied, yellow eyes glowing. That quickly shut him up.

"JERRY, JERRY, JERRY!" A voice called loudly, and everyone's head turned at once. The discussion had been so intense, no one had noticed that the roots had untwisted and a new figure stood in the doorway.

Logan pointed one finger and simply said. "NO! No. No way."

"Logan you're breaking my heart," The figure in the doorway replied, wiping an imaginary tear away from his black and red mask. "Me and every single Jott fangirl, how _dare_ you!" He suddenly changed tones, clasping his hands together. "Oh, look at you all! This is so wonderful. It's a Christmas Miracle! My very bestest friends and family, all together under one roof. Uh, tree."

"It's July," Esme responded.

"Oh, what's in July...not Hannukah...not Kwanzah... maybe some Wiccan right of passage?" Wade replied, looking thoughtful and rubbing his chin. "The point is, it's a miracle."

"Why," asked Mystique, pushing her thumbs against her eyes as if she had a raging headache, "Why is he here? Someone tell me. Please."

"I will tell you why I'm here, but just because you're my favorite Smurfette!" Deadpool continued enthusiastically, pointing both fingers at Mystique. "I am here-- get ready, drumroll. I am here because I fathered all the babies. All of them. And all of you. You are all the children I shot forth from my beatific, fertile loins."

"I feel like I'm going to vomit again," Cable murmured, and Esme looked disgusted.

"I should explain. I've invited Wade Wilson because, like it or not," Magneto said with particular distaste and annoyance in his voice, "he actually has some information that is going to be quite pertinent to our efforts."

"Like it or not? What's not to like?" Wade asked, pulling up a chair and propping his feet on the table in front of us. "You can't even get this kind of messy drama in a telenovela anymore, and I watch them muy religiosamente. Do we have...wow, not one, but TWO couples where mama, papa and the kids ALL got preggo? I swear, deja vu, I saw this once somewhere! I saw it. Lemme think-- oh yes, my very favorite show. Sixteen and pregnant. Oh my God. Season one. Whitney. We should all watch it together, I feel like it would be really inspirational."

"While I do have respect for your decision making capabilities Erik," Emma said coldly, "I am questioning the utility of bringing this maniac here, information or not. Could we please get on with this. Sooner rather than later, if he actually has something important to say?"

"OH, EMMA!" Deadpool called, sitting up suddenly, his boots hitting the floor with a CLUNK. "OF COURSE! I wouldn't want to keep you waiting. You probably have ol' Cyclops tied up in your dungeon somewhere in his silk panties. I always knew he needed someone like you to bring out that kinky side. Seriously. Love you two as a couple. These young people, psshhhh! Although, Cable, buddy, I am surprised. You're basically still in diapers, you still managed to get some baby batter into Frosty's clone. All grown up, my man. And not nearly as ugly as old Cable. Not enough pouches though, you should work on that. Listen, brought you some bourbon to celebrate but I drank it on the way I'm sorry."

"Is anyone able to shut this man up?" Mystique asked, tapping her fingers against the table. "I don't care how valuable the information is at this point, to be honest."

"You know- they've tried, but science has not yet found a way," Wade continued sadly. "Listen if you want my very important information, it comes at a price. You're going to have to listen to my opinions first. Daken, Mystique, no offense but you're old news. Everyone knows villains fuck like champs, so of course you knocked someone up, probably some random mutie truck stop hooker named Cherry Pie who works out on Interstate five, has specials on Tuesdays and only charges fifteen bucks for a -- wait, what was I talking about? Oh right. No big deal. No, nothing here to me is as UTTERLY SHOCKING as this Jean and Logan thing. Now honestly. Who saw that coming? Show of hands? That's what i thought. No one. Zero. I-- oh, it's so hot in here, pardon me."

Deadpool reached into his waistband and pulled out a sheaf of papers, that after a moment, I recognized it was a comic book. And, of course, It wasn't just any comic book. The title read "Uncanny X-Men #394," and there were two very familiar figures on the cover. I put my hands up over my face, staring down intently at the woodgrain patterned onto the table. 

He stopped fanning himself for a moment, held up the comic proudly, giving it an endearing look, and said, "I really just love the art here. These beautiful, delicately drawn hump lines," he said, stroking the page lovingly with one finger. "They're impeccable. So much energy, so much motion conveyed. Almost like the characters are alive and boning. And I hope I'm getting the credit I deserve here, I had to get this thing off eBay a whole week ago. This is what it's like to come prepared. I hope you're all taking notes. There will be a quiz."

"Tell us what the hell ya got to say Wade and get the hell out," Logan roared, standing up, as I continued to hide my face in my hands and wish myself into non-existance.

"Okay. Okay, obviously someone hasn't had their wheatie-os yet this morning, my short and stabby friend. Listen bub, you cannot subsist on a diet of redhead alone. I know because I tried it once, but eventually Carrot Top took out a restraining order."

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WADE, JUST TELL US WHAT THE HELL YOU CAME TO TELL US!" I yelled at last, hands balled into fists. I felt like I was literally dying of embarrassment. 

Deadpool froze, eyes wide. "Yes ma'am, Phoenix ma'am. Please don't kill me." he said in a small voice. 

"At last," Mystique said, rolling her eyes and then carefully inspecting her nails.

"So," Deadpool continued, pacing in front of the table. "In all the walks of life that got you here-- mostly due to unsafe sexual practices mind you, I am assuming you met a lawyer."

"YES," I said, exasperated but interested all at once. "Yes, there was a lawyer. Who is she? What is she?"

"Well I'll tell you what she's not. She's no health teacher. I'm pretty sure all of you failed that class. Haven't you ever heard of 'don't be a fool, wrap your tool?' 'No glove, no love.' No?"

"WADE!" I yelled through gritted teeth.

"Fine fine," he said waving a hand. "I'm just jealous because all the attractive mutants aren't trying to make babies with me. Anyway, the lawyer works for Sinister."

"I fuckin' knew it!" Logan said, slamming a fist on the table.

"Yes, well, I think it was pretty obvious to anyone who thought for half a second about who might be recruiting new genetic material," Mystique replied cooly, eyes flashing.

"Isn't he on the Quiet Counsel? Mom?" Cable asked, as Esme looked at Emma for confirmation.

"Yes," I replied, lips tight.

"Excuse me, attention back on me where it belongs," Deadpool continued, waving his hands like an airline controller. "Back to the lawyer. She's not human, and she's not mutant. You could say she's not from around here. Although some of you might have heard of her, under a slightly different name."

"Well then where the hell is she from?" Daken asked in a frustrated tone.

"She's from the Otherworld. She can take on other forms, like Mystique. She can also kill you with a single touch, probably like Mystique. But unlike Mystique, she doesn't have a heart of gold and has zero qualms about murdering all the babies, all of you, or anyone else who gets in her way."

"Fuck you Wade," Mystique said with a tight smile.

"Gladly," Deadpool responded, giving a quick salute. "I'll carry your babies Raven. Just tell me when. Now?"

"Can we get rid of 'im now? Was that it?" Logan asked, sounding unimpressed. "We done here?"

"Almost," Emma interjected. "I still have a few more questions. You said she's from Otherworld. How do you know that, and how exactly are we supposed to approach her? Does she have any weaknesses."

"Oh I can't give EVERYTHING away now, can I?" Deadpool whined. "But...hey... you know what? I'll make it fun. It'll be a riddle. She's not going to be easy to beat, I'll tell you that. I tried once, and I was dead for four days, woke up disoriented on the Jersey Turnpike." He looked thoughtful. "Wait, that might have just been the plot of _Being John Malkovich._ Anyway, the person that I know can defeat her...okay...sixth planet from the sun...and...Wolvie over there minus one weapon."

"What the hell is he talking about?" Cable asked in an irritated tone, hand back on his weapon.

"Saturnyne," I replied immediately.

Deadpool's face suddenly fell and he looked utterly crestfallen. "It's not fun anymore if you get it right away like that! You didn't have to show off!"

"Okay, can we kick him out now Mags?" Logan asked in an impatient tone.

"I believe that will be all we need for the moment, Wade. You may go."

"But... I don't want to go. I want to be part of this cool kids club. Oh that reminds me, Logan, I need to return that Phoenix costume you dressed me in. I took it to the dry cleaners but they couldn't all the blood--"   
  
"Time ta go Wade," Wolverine, said with a grimace, strong arming Deadpool towards the entrance. When the mass of branches unfurled, he threw him out.

"Phoenix costume?" I asked Logan.

"Man's two chairs short of a dinette set, Jeannie," Logan replied. "Talkin' nonsense."

"Very well," Magneto continued. "Now that we finally have order, let's take care of the rest of our business here. Time is short."

"Wait-- before you say more," Mystique spoke up, "There is something I need to know, Erik. Something I think we all deserve to know. Is Moira's puppet behind any of this?"

"I assume you're referring to Charles?" Magneto asked evenly.

"Am I?" Mystique replied casually. "I could be referring to several people."

There was total silence in the room that quickly grew awkward. Magneto looked down first, and oddly enough his expression was contrite.

"I can't answer that Raven. I'm sorry. I wish that I could."

"There is a reason they won't bring my wife back," Mystique answered coldly. "And now they're going to take my child. Mark my words Erik. If this operation doesn't work, Charles and the rest of Krakoa will pay the price."

"I understand you feel that way," Erik replied solemly.

"If you understand how I feel so well, then surely you know that when I say I will burn this place to the ground, I mean it."

There was silence all around. Magneto finally broke it.

"Although there's more to discuss, we unfortunately lost a lot of valuable time in the chaos today. Sage has let me know we have windows of thirty minutes during which we can evade surveillance, but once we reach that time limit, we are no longer guaranteed safety. Before we adjourn, there is one more matter at hand. There is only one of us right now who has access to the nursery."

Slowly, all eyes in the room turned to me.

"I took a look at that badge while you were sleeping, my dear," Magneto explained. "It's linked to you through your DNA. Your unique signature. You are the only person with the capability here of opening that door."

I immediately felt Logan's hand on my shoulder. "No way," he said, stepping forward. "Yer not puttin' Jeannie out there, just because she's got a key. I don't give a shit, we'll find another way in."

"Hey," I said softly, putting my hand over Logan's. "I am going to do what it takes to get our daughter back. We've all been hurt by what's happening here. We all deserve to get to the bottom of it. But I'm doing this because I couldn't live with myself knowing that I'd let Echo down. Okay Logan?" I asked, giving his hand a squeeze as he stared at me with a worried expression.

"Very well," Magneto said. "I just wanted to make sure you'd have an understanding of the gravity of your future role in this. It won't be easy. It will be dangerous."

At this point, Sage leaned over to Magneto and quietly whispered to him, pointing to her watch.

"Very well," he continued. "We'll need to exit and disband now, quickly and quietly. No one must breathe a word of this. You will all be contacted tomorrow about the individual role you will need to play. Each person will be given instructions. They are your instructions, and yours alone. Do not discuss them with others. This is for our safety; if one of us is apprehended, if one piece in this puzzle is taken out of play, the end game will still stand strong."

"So you're saying if somebody tortures us and and we spill our guts, one death isn't gonna ruin it for the rest of us," Daken said, eyebrow raised.

"Exactly," Magneto replied without a shred of irony.

Logan held my hand, looking at me with concern and sadness. His face said it all, and I knew exactly what he was thinking before he said it.

"I can't lose ya again, Jeannie," he said, a plea.

"I know Logan," I replied. "You won't. Okay? You won't."

But the truth was, I didn't know whether or not I was lying.


	15. DAY 4

I woke up.

My face was buried in my pillow, the sunlight a dull glow through my window. There was a damp spot where I'd clearly drooled on the pillow. Nice. I brushed the hair out of my face, rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and stretched, still tangled up in the covers. I lay there for a moment, not moving, just ruminating over the events of the past few days. Life was far from perfect. There was fear, there was tension, there was uncertainty. But I was in love. Deeply, turbulently, loved and in love. I had a child. And oddly enough, I felt more like myself than I had for the past few lifetimes. I no longer had to envy people like Emma Frost, who were unapologetically themselves and proud of it. And now, despite the fact I was being forced to hide by others, I wasn't forcing myself to hide anymore. I was living life as I really was, who I really was. I was finally someone I wanted to bed. That was something.

That really was something.

_Morning Red._

Even though I couldn't feel his physical presence, I could feel him there in my head and it was comforting. I knew he was one room over, right out of reach, and that was mostly frustrating.

 _Morning. Were you waiting for me to wake up?_ I asked this with a smirk, sighing, and then turning on my side to face the wall that separated us.

 _What, ya think I got nothing better to do?_ He said, and I could feel him crossing his arms.

 _I'm just trying to decide if you watching me sleep on the psi-link is romantic, or creepy,_ I mused.

 _Neither, I'm just tryn'a keep you safe. Don't want anything to happen to ya, Jeannie,_ He replied, and I could tell he was being serious.

 _It's not me you need to worry about,_ I replied across the psi-link, sadly.

 _I always worry about ya, darlin,_ he responded.

 _Why? Because I die a lot? I'd think you'd be used to it by now,_ I said dryly.

 _Don't joke about it Jeannie. I don't wanna lose you again. I mean it. I lose ya, I lose everythin'._ He sounded pained. I softened a bit.

 _Miss you,_ I said into his head, trying to drag the mood up from the somber tone it had taken.

 _Yeah?_ He responded. _Want me to come over?_ He asked, trying and failing to sound innocent.

 _No Logan. You know the rules and so do I,_ I replied curtly.

 _And the rules say what, exactly_ Logan prodded, being purposefully exasperating.

 _They say that you and I cannot have any physical relationship. You know it as well as I do._ I repeated sternly. I imagined him on the other side of the wall, that cheeky expression he got whenever he wanted to break the rules, which was...well, all the time. Pretty much. Logan and rules went together like orange juice and toothpaste.

 _So okay, we don't get physical._ He said, and I could hear the mischief in his voice.

 _What's that supposed to mean?_ I asked.

 _I mean..._ he said, and trailed off, as I suddenly drew in a sharp breath. I could feel his memories, he was sending them through our link; memories of us. Specifically, his memories of me naked. Thoughts about exactly what he wanted to to do me. What he wanted to taste, where he wanted to touch, the sounds he wanted to hear...

 _Is all you ever think about sex?_ I half complained. The other half was intrigued.

 _Nope, also beer and stabbin' things,_ Logan responded a little too smoothly.

 _I walked right into that one,_ I groaned.

 _When you're around though Red, one a those beats out the others_ , he said, and suddenly I felt a memory as if I were living it, I could taste it, smell it. It was the camping trip, and I felt the vinyl of the tent under my back, Logan's weight shifting on top of me, the flicker of the lantern, the sting of sweat in my eyes, two hearts beating, salty sweat on my tongue... I drew in a short breath, realizing I was still in my room, in my bed. I hadn't moved an inch.

 _Logan...?_ I said in a tone somewhere between reproachful and intrigued. I gasped again when I felt him touch himself. He was hard, and it was pleasurable sensation. The psi-link arced between us like lightning. Interesting. In all the years Scott and I had been linked like this we'd never...well, never tried to use it this way that's for sure. If nothing else, Logan got points for innovation. 

_Oh..._ I said, distracted again as more memories spilled across the link, burning like pleasurable embers in my head. I felt my cheeks turning red, I was biting the corner of my lip a little. Well... this technically wasn't breaking the rules, was it? We weren't together. We weren't touching. Well, we weren't touching each other, anyway. Looking around as if I expected Apocalypse to be lurking in the corner somewhere judging what I was about to do, I pulled the covers up to my chin and let my hand wander down my thigh. I was only dressed in a t-shirt and panties, and I wiggled my underwear down over my hips easily and pushed them down into the comforter with my feet.

 _Yeah Jeannie_ Logan said with enough enthusiasm to let me know this was exactly what he had in mind. I was already wet; whether or not I always liked it, he tended to have that effect on me, and I slipped a finger inside myself. There was something fun about this, something extra naughty. I tried what he was doing, I projected what I liked when we were together, the way he held my wrists when he was on top, the way he scented me, the way he bit my neck just a little bit...

I heard a growl of approval across the psi-link, the intensity like a dizzy pleasant buzz. I could feel him getting closer to the edge and it was pushing me.

_God Logan, this feels good... this feels like.._

Without warning, the door to my room opened, swung and hit the wall with a muted bang as Scott strode in casually.

"Scott!" I cried out loud, hand freezing under the covers, two fingers still inside myself.

 _Ugh. Fuckin' Christ, why?_ I heard Wolverine moan in disgust and frustration on the other end of our psi-link. I stared wide-eyed at Scott, too scared to move. Thank God Logan was the one with the super senses, or I would've been instantly busted. As it was, I hoped I just looked like I lying casually in bed. And not masturbating. Definitely not that.

"Hey Jean. Morning," Scott said, in a tone as if we were passing in the hallway. He came and sat at the edge of the bed, as I continued to stare at him, awkwardly horrified. Did he really just casually stroll into my room, as if that was acceptable, and was he really completely unaware of the situation that was happening?

I watched his bland expression as he sat next to me on the bed and the answer was clear. Yes. Yes, he was clueless. That was the man I'd been married to for years. Many years. Sometimes I guess it takes dying to realize how wrong you'd been about somebody.

"Listen," Scott said in a level voice, pushing his hair away from his visor, giving me a considering look as I lay there stock still. "I feel like we need to talk, Jean. To clear the air, you know?" he continued, smoothing out some wrinkles in the bedding and my heartbeat tripled as his hand came perilously close to the one I had hidden under the covers.

"No, I don't know," I replied petulantly. "You know what? Now is really not the best time Scott, okay? It's uh... it's early. It's early and I'm tired." I said, sounding as annoyed as I felt. "And Scott, we have talked about this before. We're both entitled to our privacy. You need to knock on my door before you come in. Okay?"

"Right. Right. I'm sorry about that Jean, honestly. Force of habit, you know. I mean, it's not like I walked in on you and Logan or anything, right?" He said with a short, derisive laugh, as I glared daggers at him.

"Anyway," he said, slapping his hands on the tops of his thighs, "I just wanted to talk to you about Erik. I was thinking about it, and I wanted you to know, I'm not angry. In fact, I approve. I really... I really see you two as a good match."

"Excuse me?" I said, trying ever so ever so slowly slide my fingers out of myself without seeming too obvious. This was a mess. Literally, and figuratively. Guys were lucky that all cleanup took was a well placed sock.

I heard Logan snicker across the link and I shushed him, irritated.

"I mean, sure, his history is a bit shady, we both know that," Scott began, "But I get that his days of being the villain are behind him now. Krakoa was a fresh start for all of us, so I believe it, I believe he's a changed man. And really, there's a lot of good in him. He's an older man, he's lived his life. He's smart, he's sensible. A bit of an ego, but then again, nobody's perfect. He's got a good head on his shoulders. Clever. Magneto is clever, I'll give him that. But ultimately what I think you need Jean, is a man with stability. I think that's why you and Logan didn't work out, you know?"

 _Jesus does he ever shut up?_ Logan asked across the psi-link and for once I agreed with him.

"You and Erik have a future. You and Logan-- well, you know how that's bound to go every single time. I'm not sure why you even wanted to go that route again Jean. You know him."

I was about to shoot back, "I don't know what the hell you're talking about," but my voice was cut short when I felt Logan start to stroke himself again, and my breath got short, his pleasure overtaking my confusion through the link.

 _What the hell do you think you're doing Logan?_ I hissed sharply over our link. 

_Sick a' slim gettin' in my way. Fuck it. I'm finishing what we started_ Logan replied, and I realized what he was planning. Damn it.

"Logan I'm going to murder you," I muttered, and in a heartbeat I realized I'd been speaking out loud. 

"I hear you, Jean, I hear you," Scott replied without missing a beat. "I wanna murder that hairy little bastard sometimes too. Haha. Listen, you're preaching to the choir. Sometimes I do just want to...ah, just wanna shove him off a cliff into the sea and watch him sink like an adamantium stone. Not that I'd do it, given the chance. Just something I think about from time to time; you know I've talked to my therapist about it at some length-- I guess murderous fantasies are actually pretty common and can be part of a healthy inner life. Who knew, right?"

Scott's voice droned on and it was all nonsense as far as I was concerned. Logan was about to come and it was all I could do not to slap my hands over my mouth and stop from crying out.

"Jean, are you listening to to me? Did you hear what I just said?" Scott asked.

"Scott, I mmmppghhgk," I stumbled mid-reply, losing the ability to speak as a wave of endorphins hit me. Logan's pleasure dunked me into a momentary vortex void of conscious thought- just a sudden sea of words, just animal lust, smell, touch, taste, senses momentarily overwhelmed. I gasped for breath for a second, trying to recover.

"Jean! Jean, are you all right? Do I need to call a doctor?" Scott asked, concern rising in his voice, putting one hand to my face. "You looked like you were having a stroke."

No, I thought to myself, but Logan certainly was. "Ah...ah, migraine, Just a migraine Scott-- oh, woah..yeah, a bad, bad one." I managed, thinking on my feet, slowly coming to my senses. "I've been getting these really bad migraines lately. Sorry, they happen when I'm really stressed out and you know, it's been stressful."

"Do you need me to get help?" Scott asked, voice saturated with concern.

"No...no, I'll be okay. But actually-- you know what, Scott? Logan has some medicine I've been using, next door. Go get it Scott, please, now," I managed as I swam back into my own consciousness, ragged breaths easing. I'd never give up a little chance to get revenge, not when it presented itself this easily. 

Scott leapt from the bed, and ran towards the door connecting my room to Logan's. He made his way quickly across the room, swinging opening the door wide and stepping inside while calling, "Logan! Jean's sick. She said you have some -- Oh."

"The fuck Summers? You ever heard a' knockin'?," Logan shouted from next door. "Man can't get some goddamn privacy in his own room? Get the hell out!"

I smothered my laughter with my pillow, but Logan heard it loud and clear inside my head.

 _Fine, ya won this round Jeannie,_ I heard in my head, as Scott reappeared in my room, white as a sheet and looking slightly sick to his stomach.

"I uh... Oh, well, I um... you know what Jean? Logan's, uh, indisposed at the moment. I've got some Motrin. That stuff's good for headaches. Just give me second, will you?"

"Actually, now that you mention it, I'm feeling much, much better Scott," I continued, smiling. "That's the thing about migraines; they come on suddenly, but then they're over just as fast. I feel great."

"You sure you're okay?" he asked me incredulously.

"I'm better than okay, " I reassured him. "And I'm glad we had this conversation. There's something you should probably know, though."

"Ah- yes?" he asked. I could still tell he was shaken up from walking in on a naked Wolverine who had obviously just been enjoying some alone time. The thought still amused me.

"Erik and I aren't together, Scott. Not now, not ever. I'm not with anyone right now, I figured it would be good for me to just... take some time for myself after everything that happened."

"But--" Scott stammered. "That morning I saw you two together? I came to the door, and I saw that you'd...you'd slept there, and he was showering, and your...your..." He glanced down at my chest.

If Scott thought I was going to waste time making up some reason I'd be breastfeeding, he could think again. It wasn't his damn business and I knew he'd be too embarrassed to ask me straight out.

"I know," I said, in a placating way. "I know what it probably looked like, and it was my fault for not setting things straight then and there. But Erik and I are friends, that's all. I'd stayed up late with him talking. I was in a bad place that night, so to speak. He offered me a bed out of kindness. He's a good man, I agree, but there's nothing going on between us."

"I... I see," Scott said, sounding more bewildered than ever. Served him right for being in everyone's business, not respecting anyone's boundaries, and worst of all not knocking, I thought acidly. 

"Anything else?" I asked, smiling.

"No. No I don't believe so," Scott replied, still sounding like he was Alice and Wonderland wandering through the looking glass. Good. He could take that to his damn therapist, because it wasn't me and quite frankly I was tired of entertaining his endless exposition. Emma could fill those shoes if she wanted to, and best of luck to her at that.

"I'm going to be installing a lock on my door, I'm sure that won't be an issue," I continued as he turned to go.

"I uh-- no, of course not Jean. I understand, privacy is ah- it's important. It's important to people."

"Absolutely. Couldn't agree more."

"I'll just be going, if you need me.."

"I know where to find you, Scott," I assured him. "No need to come looking for me."

Without another word, he turned and left my room, closing the door firmly behind him. 

_Can't say I expected to spend this mornin' with Cyke walkin' in on me with my dick in my hand,_ Logan sighed begrudgingly in my head.

 _Don't be a crybaby just because you want to challenge me at games you can't win,_ I retorted, smiling as I mocked him.

 _Get the hell over here Jeannie_ , he growled.

 _You gonna follow the rules?_ I asked.

 _Only one way to find out,_ he answered.

Sighing, and pulling on a pair of sweatpants, I padded over to the door and opened it. Logan was siting cross legged on his bed, in boxers, hands behind his head.

"Sight for sore eyes, Red," he said, smiling at me.

"I think you sent Scott back to therapy," I mused. 

Logan shrugged. "Good for him. He needs somebody to reassure him he ain't gonna go blind. Hey. I was thinking..."

"Dangerous thing to do," I responded.

"Don't be a smartass Red, it's already takin' all my willpower not to grab ya and lay you flat out and.."

"Logan," I said with a smile, shaking my head at him pointedly.

"Sorry," he replied sulkily. "Point was... followin' the rules."

"What about it?" I asked him, raising one eyebrow.

"I'm assuming I can't go in and see her, our baby."

"No, I'm the only one with access," I replied. "I definitely don't think we could risk it."

"Right. But the psi-link... that works pretty good, don't it?"

"Well, you were the one hellbent on testing it out this morning and I would say, yes. Yes, it works quite well."

We stared at each other.

"Oh," I replied as it dawned on me exactly what he was thinking, and a smile slowly spread across my face as well. "Yeah. Yeah, Logan. We could be together, on the psi-link, while I visited her. It'd be close to the real thing. Wouldn't be breaking any rules, at least not technically."

Logan grinned at me, and I could see nearly all his teeth. He looked genuinely happy.

"You're really excited about it," I said, laughing. "It's cute Logan."

"Ain't never been called cute before," he said, raising an eyebrow, one corner of his mouth turning down.

"As I learned this morning, there's a first time for everything," I replied.

"Can we do it now?" he asked.

And that's how I ended up at the secret entrance near the Krakoan hatchery in the middle of the afternoon, the bright sunlight changing to dappled shade under the broad branches of the trees, looking furtively around me before I used my key card to slip inside.

I walked in through the two sets of double doors, Logan psychically riding shotgun.

 _Can't believe I never noticed this place before,_ he said into my mind.

 _Well it's been purposefully hidden_ , I explained. _The outside entrance is camouflaged with the natural scenery and I wouldn't be surprised if it's got psi-shields too. Unless you knew it was here, you could probably be staring right at it and not even know it existed._

I could feel Logan in my mind, sizing the place up.

 _How many damn babies they got in here anyway?_ he asked, tone uneasy as we walked past the first row of isolettes.

 _Too many_ , I replied darkly. I had my eye out for Echo's crib, and despite myself, joy shot through me as I approached.

I walked up to it-- and I froze in my tracks.

Echo was there, smiling, one little fist jammed partway in her mouth, dripping with baby drool. But she was doing something else. Something I'd never seen her do before.

She was standing. She was standing up in her isolette, holding onto the side with one hand as she gnawed on the other, following me with her clear blue eyes.

 _That her? Damn, we made a cute little girl,_ Logan said cheerfully over the psi-link. Then he must've been hit by the wave of emotion rolling in from me, because his tone changed and I felt uncomfortable confusion swell as he hurriedly asked, _Jeannie? What it is? What's wrong?_

"Echo..?" I said hesitantly, taking a step towards her. She was still small, but she definitely wasn't a newborn anymore. She had filled out a bit, chubby legs and and arms, and her face looked more like a toddler.

"Mama," she replied, reaching one small hand out to me, and my heart momentarily turned to ice, shock running through my brain like a buzzsaw. Puzzled, heartbroken, and filled with love all at the same time I held out a hand touch her and she grabbed hold of my finger, laughing. "Mama, mama, mama!" she babbled excitedly. Her hair was longer too; what had been a thick black fuzz over her scalp was now wispy ebony curls about her ears and neck.

 _Logan... this isn't... she's grown. She was just a newborn. Just a day ago. How can this be happening? She's standing up. She looks like she's a year old already, at least_. I said in awe and confusion to Logan, and after only hesitating a moment more, I lifted her out of her isolette and into my arms. She was dressed in the same thing she was always was, a simple white cotton one-piece. There was nothing else different around, nothing to explain this gut-wrenching, world-altering change. It made me feel like I was losing my mind.

I opened the little drawer that had contained diapers and formula beneath her bed, and inside was now neatly lined up jars of baby food. So this was planned. It was intentional. This was expected, and whoever was running this show-- Saturnyne, or Sinister, or that creepy woman who had initially approached me-- obviously had part in manipulating her growth. If they could do this to my daughter, what else could they do? What had they hidden in her genes, what kind of time bomb had they turned my innocent child into?

I was filled with sudden fear and anger, although the soft tug of Echo's hands on my face made me remember to keep an outward cool.

 _Jeannie, listen,_ Logan's voice came urgent over the psi-link. He knew me too well. He knew when I was on the edge. I _know you're pissed off right now. I can feel it like the heat of a thousand suns, I get it, yer self control is somethin' else right now not to raze this place to the ground. But before you go and do anything yer gonna regret, think about the situation. Our little girl is healthy. She looks happy. We're all alive. Don't do anything too crazy, okay darlin'?_

Part of me thought vaguely, detached, that when Wolverine is advising you not to do anything stupid, you really must not be in the best place mentally. And he was right. I wasn't. I knew what he was saying was logic and sound, but the fact that someone was playing with us like this-- playing with my family. With my emotions. With my CHILD, it made me feel blinded by rage. A deep, bubbling, molten rage that I felt deep down in my very bones. I clutched Echo close to me, and she clung to me, nuzzling her little cheek under my chin.

How dare they touch my daughter. Our daughter. How dare they.

"Come out, right now, wherever you are," I called in a voice filled with anger and pain. "Who's doing this? Stop hiding like a coward and show yourself! SHOW YOURSELF!" I called into the quiet of the nursery. Echo looked innocently up at me, my voice ringing out around us. I heard the faint wail of another baby in its isolette, awakened by my voice.

 _Jeannie_ \-- Logan started, but I abruptly cut off the psi-link. I knew it wasn't fair to him, but I had had enough. I'd played along. I was done.

I heard a lone sound - clap, clap, clap... and I saw a figure step out of one of the doorways and walk down the hall, clapping slowly. I recognized almost immediately who it was.

"Sinister," I said between gritted teeth, "I swear to god, if you value your life you'll tell me what the hell is going on right now," I said, my voice tight.

"Oh Jean," he said, smiling, stopping in front of me and leaning with one arm against one of the isolettes. "I always had a soft spot for you. Saturnyne warned me about playing favorites, but it's just hard not to. Your DNA is such a work of art," he said, sauntering forward, dripping with narcisssism as always.

"What the hell did you do to my daughter," I asked, almost breathless with anger. Echo was looking up at my face attentively. She definitely knew something was happening here, but not quite what. 

"First of all Jeannie," Sinister said with a smirk, before I cut him off abruptly.

"DON'T call me that," I snapped.

"I don't know why you're so angry at me, it's because of me that your darling child is alive at all," he said, shifting his cape around his shoulder, smug smile on his face.

"Don't give me that bullshit, Essex. You had no intention of ever letting me raise my child. I don't know what you were planning on doing, but whatever it was, it stops now. She's mine."

Sinister sighed, then examined his sleeves, picked off a thread. "Shoddy workmanship," he muttered. 

"What are you doing with these children?" I demanded. "Is this some sick experiment?"  
  
"Oh no. Listen Jean, this," he said, waving his hands around to indicate the room full of isolettes "This isn't pleasure, much as I do love to play with your genes. This is all business. These fine clothes don't pay for themselves, and I have a certain lifestyle to support. I use my talents to support it, just as I'm sure you do."

"What do you mean, business?" I asked.

"Since it's unlikely you'll live through this next part, I may as well be frank with you, my dear. Saturnyne has custom ordered an army for Otherworld. And she's paid me handsomely. It's probably no surprise to you that she didn't take losing well. Certainly, you would've predicted that the war was far from over, just because of some silly little contest. Well, what better way to fight X-Men than...more X-Men! Only newer, better, improved. That's where my genius comes in of course. You all did the hard part; or perhaps I should say, the fun part," he grinned and raised an eyebrow. "I was so hoping for another Grey-Summers hybrid, but I should've guessed what was really coming. That angry little furball never could keep it in his pants to save his life. Can't say it was a terrible result this time, she's quite beautiful," he said, gesturing vaguely towards Echo. "And powerful, although you're just going to have to wait and see what little bag of tricks awaits," he grinned devilishly.

"You're sending an army? Of children? To Otherworld so they can be trained to fight against us and take over Kraoka?" I said incredulously.

"Well, that's the jist of it," Sinister replied, examining his nails. "When you say it that way it sounds like a cheap Hollywood plot device, but I assure you; it took a true mastermind. Yes, myself. I'm speaking of myself, of course. Although you're wrong about one part. I'm not sending an army of children. They won't be children much longer. I've sped up their biological clocks. I promised dear Saturnyne a full fledged army in six months time. If I grow them any faster than that, the powers become unstable, so, we had to compromise a bit, thus the nursery. But I'm afraid, Jean, you're not going to be there to watch your darling little berserker grow up. Truly sad. I'd shed a tear, but I had my tear ducts removed years ago, pointless pieces of anatomy."

"What are you going to do to us?" I asked, trying not to let the fear creep into my voice, taking a step back, holding tight to Echo, who had gone completely still in my arms, hands clinging around my neck.

"Part of the deal was that Saturnyne would grant me amnesty and protection, so she gave me a few tricks up my sleeve to protect this beautiful little project of mine. Say hello to the Hoard, they're likely the last things you'll see," Sinister said, using a beckoning motion of his finger.

At first I heard nothing, and then I heard what sounded like a dull buzz, followed by a low shrieking sound, and then I saw them, coming down the long white corridor that led farther from the nursery than I'd ever ventured. They looked black, wraith-like, not like anything of this earth. And I realized they probably weren't. They were flying towards us at alarming speed.

Echo shrieked, and buried her face in my chest as they closed in on us and raising a hand I threw up a psi-shield just in time to be engulfed by darkness, swirling, writhing goblins.

 _LOGAN!!_ I shouted in my head, but I realized no one but myself could hear. The psi-link was down. The hoard was throwing itself against my psi-shield, a swirling, chaotic screeching mass of demonic forms that was blacking out the light. I felt myself start to sweat from the immense pressure I was exerting to keep us safe and Echo had started crying. 

Oh god, I thought to myself. This was it. And I realized, if I couldn't protect my daughter, I didn't want to come back. I didn't want a resurrection this time. If we went down, we went down together, forever. I couldn't live with myself after that.

"Aaauuuggh!" I cried with frustration, falling to my knees, still clinging to my crying daughter. The force of the hoard was immense. We were in the pitch black and I was pushing as hard as I could to keep them off me, keep our shield intact.

"Help! Somebody... please," I cried weakly as I felt my defenses start to buckle under the weight. Echo's tears, soaking the shoulder of my uniform, and my own tears starting to run down my face. It couldn't end like this, dammit. It wasn't fair to her. I was so close to having it all, only to have it ripped out of my grasp. I also knew, deep in my heart, that I couldn't let the hoard take my daughter. If I couldn't protect us, I would have to kill us. Oddly, I suddenly felt a pang of sympathy, realizing I was now put in the awful position that Logan had faced with me, long ago. How much love does it take to end someone's life when they are the very reason you breathe, the reason you wake up in the morning?

"Shhh. It's okay, Echo," I stroked her smooth, dark little ringlets as she whined and looked up at me, frightened, the sweat mingling with my tears in the dark shielded space that was slowly, slowly caving in on us as I lost the battle.

"I love you," I whispered to her. "I know you can't understand me yet, but I just want you to know, I feel more love for you than I ever imagined I was capable of fee--"

RRRRRAAAAAWWGGGRRR!

From the darkness, the primal sound rang through the air. I would know that sound anywhere.

"LOGAN!" I yelled, desperate, dropping the sobbing Echo into my lap to use both my hands to push away the encroaching swarm. "LOGAN, WE'RE IN HERE!"

There was a sudden blinding flash, bright red energy that momentarily dazzled my vision, so that I was only seeing stars. And just like that, the darkness disappeared, lifting, pushed back temporarily.

And there were two familiar faces. Logan and Scott, back to back, pushing back together against the hoard to help free us. Scott let out another optic blast, scattering the wraiths, and turning toward Logan, ordered in a monotone, "Get these children out of here Wolverine. Jean, retreat. Get out now, they seem to be vulnerable to me but I can't hold them back for long."

In that moment, I remembered why it was I'd fallen in love with Scott in the first place. Even if I didn't feel the same, at that instant the bitter taste he left in my mouth disappeared. For all that he was not, Scott was a leader, and a warrior. Who else could be dragged out of his room and expected to instantly fight an army of intergalactic demons without even questioning why his ex-wife was standing there holding a child that looked suspiciously like his greatest rival? Scott. That's who.He wasn't here to ask questions, he was here to win.

And Logan was by his side, claws out, keeping the scourge from flanking him as he pushed them steadily back, blast after blast. At Scott's command, Logan immediately, turned and with the ease of years of expertise, ran down the row of isolettes, breaking the latches on each. Turning to run, I saw exactly how they'd gotten in- the door was a wrecked mess of claw marks and singed metal, and through the smoking entrance stepped Emma.

She barely had time to acknowledge me when Logan threw two babies at her, "Get 'em outta here Frosty," he growled, heading back towards the black mass to collect more. "Fuck outta here, ya damn demons," he muttered, slicing several forms into ribbons as he collected two more infants under each arm.

Emma looked as startled as the two children she'd just been handed did. She quickly recovered, then said to me, "I've contacted Magneto, reinforcements are on their way. Get out of here Jean, run. We've got this."

I ran past her towards the door as I heard more optic blasts, and Logan's roar. As I clambered out the broken entrance, Echo in my arms, Magneto flew past in a blast of wind, a trail of metal detritus following him, an artillery made of deadly shrapnel. Emma ran back past me, handing off children to Daken, of all people, who looked somewhat confused and disoriented standing at the entrance.

"I'm not a goddamn babysitter," he yelled through the smoke and chaos, as one of the children screamed bloody murder in his arms and another gnawed on his pants leg, "Why are you giving me these kids? Let me in there! I'm here to kick some ass!"

"You will shut up and do exactly as you're told. Get these children to safety, NOW," Emma snapped at him crossly, leaving no room for argument, handing off another child and then turning away, morphing into diamond form as walked back into the wild fray. Emma may have been a bitch, but by God she was no coward.

"Damn you for always meddling," I heard Sinister's voice in my head. "Always trying to ruin me. Don't think you can win this!"

Turning away with Echo, I ran, stumbling through the roots of the Krakoan jungle, trying to put distance between us and the fight, trying to get Echo to safety, wherever that was.

I had only gotten a few yards away when a heard what sounded like an explosion and felt a concussive blast rock the earth, knocking me to my knees. I covered Echo with my body. 

And then there was only blackness, as I lost consciousness and hit the ground.


	16. DAY 4 (Part II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right. The next chapter is gonna be a blast, it has some of my very favorite characters to write- but don't hold your breath. I'm having to train on something new at work and everything is just insane right now, so-- it's written in my head, but who knows when it's going to come out of my hands. Damn responsibilities, adulting is overrated sometimes. All the time? Anyways, thanks for the ongoing support, and enjoy!

I opened my eyes, my head throbbing. There were strong arms holding me, keeping me safe. Blinking as my blurry vision cleared, I looked up into the eyes of ... Scott Summers?

"Scott what are doing? Put me down," I said, too disoriented to be cross. That was when I noticed the look he had on his face wasn't exactly tender either.

"Where's Echo?" I asked, ignoring his scowl as he set me down on shaky legs. It took me a moment to regain my balance.

"I should be asking you, 'who the hell is Echo,'" Scott replied tersely, "Although I'm pretty sure I've got it figured it out by now. Believe it or not I'm not as stupid as you think I am. The little girl is with Logan, they stayed in the car."

"They...what?" I asked, rubbing my head. I realized Scott was in pretty rough shape himself. Half his face was black with soot, his uniform was ripped and there were some bandages hastily applied to his arms that he'd already bled through. His visor was cracked and part of his hair was singed off. And even with his eyes shielded, it didn't take a telepath to tell he looked pissed.

"What...what happened?" I asked him, finally feeling myself steady on my feet. He had an arm around me, but it was clearly there to support me physically from falling and nothing else. The rest of his body language was stiff. When I spoke those words, he immediately turned to face me, teeth on edge.

"What happened? Don't you really think I should be asking you that question, Jean? Why don't you tell me what the hell's been happening these past months? Were you cheating on me before we even decided to open up our marriage? How in the hell did you hide the fact that you and Logan have a goddamn _child_ , together I--" Scott's face was red, he was breathing fast, and he stopped speaking. I could tell he was disconnecting himself from his emotions, regaining composure. "I need a moment. I need a moment to pull myself together Jean," he said, holding up a hand.

He kept the supportive arm around me, which I was grateful for, considering I still felt dizzy, and Scott looked the other way, taking deep breaths.

"It's not what it looks like. It's so much more complicated," I attempted.

"Well then by all means, Jean. Tell me. Enlighten me, what is this really," he asked me, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

"Well for one thing, _I_ didn't even know I had a child until last week. I never even knew I was pregnant. If you think I somehow managed to hide an entire nine months of pregnancy from you Scott, you've lost your damn mind. I was being played in this game as much as you are," I responded.

"But you lied about Logan. You two are still together. You were, and you are." Scott asked me, point blank.

"Yes. I lied, I'm sorry about that too. You know that it was complicated, there was that lawyer and.."

"What else did you lie about? _When_ else did you lie about him?" Scott quickly asked, cutting me off. "Before I had the psychic affair with Emma? Before the resurrections? Before that?" he asked, his voice rising in pitch. "Before our marriage? Has it all been a lie, Jean? Us?"

"No...I..." I started to reply and stopped. I didn't even know the truth. I didn't want to do this right now.

That faint red glow of his visor met my eyes, held my gaze fiercely. I looked away. I didn't want to have this conversation right now, it wasn't the time or the place. I felt that Scott sensed it too, because he paused, and then went on as if that little dialogue between us had never happened.

"You got knocked out during the fight," he explained, voice now calm and even. "Logan couldn't take you and the kid both, so I took you, he took the kid and we went to the only safe place as far away from Krakoa and without any kind of mutant surveillance that I could think of."

"Wait a minute" I said, blinking my eyes looking around for the first time at where we were, at the neatly trimmed lawn, and the familiar chipped paint on the front door. "Are we... Scott..you took us to my PARENT'S house?" I gasped.

"I was thinking on the fly, Jean," Scott replied, sounding frustrated. "And it wasn't a bad decision if I say so myself. It's not the first place they're going to look for the two of you, you know they'll probably check Logan's dives and underground ties first, so it'll buy you a little time. It's a suburban neighborhood, so unlikely to use anything from Otherworld here outright. There are no gates anywhere near here, hence the car."

"Whose car..?" I began.

"God knows, Logan hotwired it right outside the gateway," Scott sighed. He turned and looked behind us, "Speak of the devil,"

"Hey Jeannie, you doin' okay?" I heard a voice behind me and turned; it was Logan, getting out of the car, which was parked right behind the little yard gate to the house, Echo in tow.

"Nice to see your face grew back," Scott said to Logan in a tone that told me he would've been quite happy if Logan had remained a blob of cooked flesh and metal. "I told Logan to stay put so he wouldn't scare the living hell out of your parents. He wasn't exactly looking...presentable," Scott explained to me, removing the hand he'd been using to steady me. I did see Logan glance at the hand, but he said nothing.

"Is she okay?" I asked Logan, and Echo smiled at me as if she hadn't just been through her first epic alien battle. 

"Better'in the rest of us," he replied, shrugging. Logan was basically half naked, the top of his costume completely shredded, cowl ripped halfway off his head, and Echo was in his arms beaming. "Hey I think she's a daddy's girl, she hasn't let me put her down since I picked 'er up," Logan said rather proudly, jerking a thumb at the little smiling face. Scott's scowl deepened.

"Oh my!" a very familiar voice said, and the three of us whipped around to to see my mother, standing in the open doorway.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't hear you knock! Scott dear, always a pleasure to see you. Oh, what's happened to you! You look... you look like you had a hard day. Come on in. You and Jean must have so many adventures to tell us about. I wish you'd told me you were on your way, your father is upstairs working on his manuscripts."

"I .. uh.. it's good to see you too, Elaine," Scott said awkwardly, as my mother took him by the arm, tutting at the bandages, ushering him inside.

"Mom... I um, Logan is here too. And uh, this is Echo." I said, stepping aside and gesturing to Logan and Echo, who were standing on the porch behind me looking very out of place in a middle class suburban neighborhood.

"Oh, yes. Mr... Wolverine, is it? I should let you know, Jean was very very sad you couldn't make it her wedding."

My face reddened. "Okay, mom that was a long time ago. A very, very long time ago." I said, putting a hand to my forehead. "Why on earth would you bring that up?" I muttered mostly to myself.

"Yes, well, I just remember it upset you very much," My mother said to me, giving Logan a stern look. "Very much. I just don't like to see you look so heartbroken, not on your special day Jean dear," my mother replied primly, with a smile.

"Uh, it's um, it's nice to meet ya ma'am. Jeannie's said all good things," Logan lied, ignoring the wedding comment and shifting Echo to his other arm and holding out a hand to shake.

"What a beautiful child," my mother cooed, ignoring Logan's hand and reaching out for Echo. "Is she yours?"

"Yeah! She's mine," Logan answered proudly, as Echo clung to him, refusing to leave his arms.

"Um... mom...?" I started, glancing nervously between Echo and Logan.

"Yes dear?" She asked, holding out her necklace and letting Echo giggle and grasp it in her fist. "Are you and Scott thinking about children yet? You know me and your father would just love some sweet little grandchildren."

"Well, I have some um... I have some really great news for you then," I said quietly, with a grimace.

"Pardon?" I mother said, letting Echo grab her finger. "I didn't quite catch that. Jean dear you know I'm a bit hard of hearing these days, you'll have to speak up."

_Or not_ , I thought. Or I could be a coward and avoid all this a little longer. "You know what? Let's go inside," I said hurriedly, and we went indoors.

My mother brewed tea as my father came downstairs and in an oddly incongruent moment, the four of us- three of us war torn, bruised and exhausted and one of us happily clinging to Logan's leg as she navigated cruising along the coffee table, sat down and had tea while my mother got dinner ready. We were all famished.

"I'll stay to eat, and then I need to go. Emma and Erik have been handling the situation on Krakoa but for how long I can't say. They need me," Scott said to us in low tones as my mother went to refill the teapot, and myself and Logan nodded. Scott refused to look Logan in the eye, and I could tell Logan knew it. It made me sad. For a moment there, they'd been a team again. The schism had been momentarily healed, all for the sake of me. In the name of family. Then just as quickly, the old wounds had reopened, and here there were again, still at an impasse. And again, because of me.

"Thank you Scott," I said again, quietly, as I heard a clatter from the kitchen and the clink of china as my mother poured more tea. "For all of this. We appreciate it."

"You're welcome," he responded tightly, and the tension between the three of us in the room was palpable. "KRAKOOO! KRAKOA! KRAAAAKOOO!" Echo yelled at the top of her lungs. Logan scooped her back into his lap as my mother brought out the tea.

"You father will be down in just a bit, he's just finishing up his work. So how is married life, you two? Was it very odd, being... you know.." she mouthed the word "dead," as if saying it aloud was going to make a marker start moving across a Ouija board somewhere, and then continued, "Or is it all just back to business as usual? Oh we were over the moon when our Jean came back. I can only imagine you two have been enjoying all kinds of getting to know each other again, falling in love all over again and all that goodness," My mother said, smiling broadly.

Scott and I both glanced at each other, then stared straight ahead, uncomfortable. My mother looked back and forth, obviously feeling she had made some kind of a faux pas, but unsure why. Looking slightly flummoxed, she changed the subject.

"Uh...well then...Mr. Wolverine, are you married? I'm assuming so with that lovely child."

"Not yet. Workin' on it," Logan replied, grinning despite himself. And I almost heard the sound of Scott's teeth grinding. 

"Yeah well, good luck with that Logan," Scott replied, staring into his teacup as if he were staring down the void. "Marriage isn't exactly the walk in the park you think it might be," he said, words quiet but seething.

"Oh dear," my mother replied, brow furrowing. "I didn't realize there'd been so much trouble between you two. I certainly didn't mean to pry. Perhaps we should change the subject to--" 

"MAMA!" Echo said, slowly scooting her way down the coffee table towards me. "MAMA! MAMA!" She said, turning towards me and raising her hands up towards me.

There was complete and utter silence, interrupted only by a tinkle as my mother's tea cup slipped from her hand and shattered against the table.

Scott was the first one to break the silence.

"Listen, thanks for the offer of dinner Elaine, but I'm going to have to decline. I have business to attend to. Best of luck to your daughter and Logan and I mean that. Give my regards to John," Scott said, standing up abruptly as I lifted Echo up to make sure she wouldn't step on any broken china. 

"Ah... I uh... so...," My mother said, mouth open, completely unaware of the shattered teacup at the moment. "Ah..uh..there have been a lot of changes, then?"

"Yeah mom," I said tiredly, giving a huge sigh, and Echo started fussing and pulling at my top. "I'll love to tell you all about it. You don't mind if I breastfeed right now, do you?"

And thus, we had perhaps the most awkward family dinner in history. 

I tried to explain everything, and by explain everything, I of course glossed over the majority. In this new tale of events and half-truths I'd manage to spin basically on the spot, Scott and I had separated, Logan and I had gotten together, had a child, and were engaged to be married. They really didn't need to know anything about the open marriage, the salvaged embryo, or the fact that there was in all likelihood an entire demon army trying to hunt us down right now. Keep things nice and simple. 

The hard part was that because I was lying, I was basically leading the show, and Logan was trying desperately to follow me without many cues. I felt lucky for once that being silent type came naturally to him. Logan saw dinner as an opportunity to eat, rather than talk, and it was a relief.

"Healthy appetite on that one, eh?" My father said, watching Logan inhale his third helping of dinner rolls and chicken breasts. 

"Ah, yeah," Logan said, shrugging and reaching for more gravy. "It's the healin' factor. Anytime I got damage to repair it takes a lot of calories. Somethin' like 6,000, per square foot damaged, Charlie calculated it once for fun."

"Healing factor?" My father responded, looking surprised. I sighed. My parents were the kind of people who quite literally lived in a little bubble. Among the women's bridge club and my father's golf outings, I wouldn't be surprised if the only X-Factor my parents knew about was the TV show. 

"Wolverine. Logan is Wolverine, dad," I said, stopping myself from rolling my eyes, as that wasn't polite and it wasn't really his fault.

My father adjusted his wire rimmed glasses and stared at me with a benign, confused expression. "I'm so sorry, you know I have trouble keeping track of all your friends, dear. There's so many, and with so many different...talents."

"Mutation isn't a dirty word, you know," I mentioned, eating a forkful of creamed spinach.

"No, no of course not. And you know we love you just the way you are very much," my father said, smiling at me gently. "I just meant I'm not too up to date everything, I'm just getting old I suppose."

I sighed. "Logan has healing factor, dad. He heals quickly if he's injured," I explained, sending Logan a _sorry_ in his head. But he seemed completely nonplussed, and much more interested in inhaling all of the food within his reach.

"Ah, a healing factor!" My father said. "Marvelous. That's such a wonderful talent. I have to say, I like that better than some of those powers that can be so violent. I'm just not comfortable with that."

Logan paused from a chicken leg long enough to look up at me, look at my dad, and make the decision to continue devouring the chicken rather than speak up. Smart decision.

"Wait dear--Isn't he the one with the...with the knives in his hands?" My mother asked, wiggling her fingers around, raising her eyebrows and sipping her glass of wine. I was seriously starting to question if Scott's decision to drop me off here was less strategic mastermind to keep us safe and more well-timed revenge to teach me a lesson.

"Er... yeah," Logan replied slowly, looking as if he were trapped in a corner with Sabretooth and Lady Deathstrike closing in fast.

"Oh well, excuse me! What a terrible thing for me to say!" my father sputtered, backpeddling. "When I said I wasn't comfortable with...with violence.. I didn't mean...you see, I didn't mean to imply...Jean darling, I'm sorry, I thought he was the one with the glasses," he finally spat out.

"The what? The glasses?" I asked narrowing my eyes. "Dad do you mean Hank? Beast? My friend who is literally blue?"

"Ah yes, well, I was wondering about the color change. I thought maybe that was... I don't know, some other mutation. But Wolverine, he's the scientist, right?"

"Still thinking about Hank, dad," I said, resisting the urge to just smash my face into my plate and be done with the humiliation. I could tell Logan was holding back a smile.

"So how long have you two...been...seeing each other?" My mother asked quickly, trying to cover for my father. Usually, I could judge how good or bad dinner with my mother was going by how many glasses of wine she had poured. When it got to three, it meant situation critical. This was number four. Logan glanced at me with a silent plea for help.

_Two years,_ I replied, _and use your fork._

"Two years an' use your fork," Logan replied, quickly realizing what he'd said as soon as it came out of his mouth. "Uh.. I mean.. two years," he corrected himself, setting his dinner roll down and picking up his fork.

"I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend," my mother said, wide eyes, quietly putting down her spoon and picking up her fork. She poured glass number five.

Possibly the only positive of the night was that my father happened to mention during the meal that as a history professor, he'd studied ancient Japanese culture, including their martial arts and weaponry. Logan practically lit up like a Christmas tree at this, and it was well timed because there was literally nothing left on the table for him to eat at that point. The ensuing boring, detailed conversation between him and my father regarding blades, scripture and war tactics gave me a much needed break from my evening filled with half-truths and floundering silences as I spoon fed Echo a plate of mashed potatoes that she gobbled down enthusiastically. My mother sat next to an empty wine bottle, looking somewhat shell shocked.

At last we retired from dinner as my mother showed us to the upstairs rooms. She was definitely tipsy by now and the sooner we could get to bed, the better.

"We've got these two guest rooms," she said politely. "All fixed up! You should both be very comfortable."

"Mom," I said, raising one eyebrow at her. "Logan and I have a child together. One room will do just fine."

"I know you and Mr. Wolverine--" my mother started.

"Please, it's just Logan," Logan said. Echo was riding on his shoulders on the way up the stairs, doing her damndest to pull out his hair, but Logan didn't seem to mind. Considering he'd had his face melted off several hours earlier, a baby pulling his hair was probably a walk in the park. 

"Mr...uh, Logan. You're the one the knives, yes?"

"They're actually claws," Logan corrected. I could tell the idea of showing her exactly what they were crossed his mind, and then he made the wise decision not to go that route. "Yeah, that'd be me."

"Darling," my mother said, turning to me, "I'd just feel so much safer knowing you weren't sleeping next to... well, weapons."

"Mother!" I responded, face flushing, sheer tiredness making me irritable. "You were fine when I was sleeping next to a guy who could open his eyes and blow my head off with optic blasts, but you don't want me with someone fully in control of himself--" Logan cleared his throat and I glared "--with fully retractable claws? Seriously. Mother. I'm a grown woman, you don't need to protect me from the man I'm engaged to. I'm safe. Echo's safe. Logan, if anything, just makes us safer."

Logan stared at me like that was the first time anyone in their lives had said those words.

The tension between myself and my mother was palpable. I loved her, but she knew how to push my buttons and she managed to every time we were together for more than a few hours. Between that, and the fact that my head still hurt from the fight and my ears were ringing, and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep for ten hours. I didn't want to have this fight.

"No-- no, yer mom's right," Logan chimed in. "Listen ma'am, that's just fine," Logan said, easing the tension between us, lifting Echo off his shoulders and handing her to me. I could tell she was starting to get sleepy, she kept yawning and her eyes were slowly opening and closing. 

"I'll just sleep in the room next door," Logan continued. "I'm sorry we showed up like this-- situation was a little crazy, but I appreciate yer hospitality. And just so ya know, I love your daughter more than anything on this Earth. I'm gonna marry her, I'm gonna protect her and treat her the way she deserves to be treated. You have my word."

My mother had an odd glassy-eyed expression, not quite a smile on her face as Logan was talking. After he finished she seemed to be turning something over in her mind.

"Mr. Logan...you know, maybe it's just Pinot Noir talking, but you really remind me of someone I used to know, a long long time ago. I didn't realize it before because I'd only ever seen you with your--" she put her hands up to her face. Definitely drunk. "With your little yellow mask on. But now that I see your face, it's simply uncanny. Simply uncanny."

"It's definitely just the Pinot Noir mom. Time for bed," I said hopefully, trying to nudge her back towards the stairs. I was not going to indulge my mother on one of her wine drunk rants after a day like this one.

"He was a fellow I knew in high school," she continued, ignoring me, still staring at Logan in a way that made me strangely uncomfortable. "A bit older than me; said he went to a different school. A bit rough around the edges but a handsome devil and ... oh in those days we called them 'bad boys.' He was known for roughing up anyone that got in his way, but he was always so sweet to me."

"That's nice mom. Listen, we're both really, really tired. How about we--"

"I only saw him a few times, it was never anything serious, but he brought me roses once and oh, I was quite smitten with him," she said, one hand to her chest, face flushed from the wine. I hoped it was from the wine. "Then one day he just up and disappeared, wouldn't you know! Never saw him again," she said wistfully. "I started dating your father shortly after that. What was that man's name? It's escaping me now. Oh, yes, I believe it was James," my mother said with the same dreamy stare, as my heart dropped fully into my stomach.

"That's a fascinatin' story, Mrs. Grey," Logan said, using one arm to gently turn my mother around and guide her towards the stairs. "But listen, Jeannie's dead tired. She's had a hard day. If you don't mind, we're just gonna turn in now."

"Oh, that James. I'd forgotten all about him," my mother sighed. with a little twinkle in her eye. "One room is really fine dear. I don't mean to overstep my bounds, you know that," she said, taking one step down the stairs and giving me a decidedly cheeky grin.

"GOODNIGHT MOTHER," I said, perhaps a bit too loudly.

I promptly turned around and shut the door behind me, leaving Logan alone in the hallway. Echo was dozing, and blinked her blue eyes sleepily at me as I rocked her to sleep.

"Baby girl, you would not believe the day I'm having, " I said softly.

A few moments after I laid her down on the bed, there was a knock. I walked to the door and opened it a half-inch, peering at Logan, eyes narrowed.

"Er... hey Jeannie. Can I come in?" Logan asked, sounding sheepish. He grinned at me through the crack in the door and I did not return it.

I raised my eyebrows at him. "I don't know Logan, you tell me," I replied.

"Can I come in if I promise ya I never slept with your mom?" he tried.

I opened the door an inch wider.

"How in God's name are we having this conversation right now?" I asked, putting my face in my hands, unsure whether to laugh or cry. 

"I dunno babe, but I'm tired, and I don't care, I'll apologize for somethin' I'm pretty sure I didn't do forty years ago if ya just let me in."

I opened the door, and Logan came in.

"Seriously though," he told me, taking me by the waist. "I saw all those family portraits on the wall. Didn't ring a bell. I know my memory's not the greatest, but your mom was a real looker back in the day and I bet I woulda remembered if--"

Logan saw the expression on my face and shut his mouth.

"Just get in bed with me, I'm too tired to argue," I sighed.

I was on one side of Echo, and Logan climbed in on the other, and I pulled the large old quilt up over us, dimming the lights. Finally. What I'd been craving. Home. A warm bed. The three of us, together for the first time as a family. My heart swelled with it, but at the same time, it was almost too much to process. 

"Does all of this ever seem unreal to you Logan?" I whispered in the dim light, looking down at Echo's dark eyelashes gently resting again her cheeks, her small chest rising and falling with each breath.

He looked at me and snorted quietly. "All the damn time."

We both watched Echo breathing softly.

"We got a little girl," Logan said in wonder.

"Yeah," I replied, watching her curl of the little fingers on her hand, the wisps of black hair falling against the sheets.

"Cyke's pissed," Logan whispered to me, and I squeezed my eyes closed.

"When isn't he," I replied. "He wants to know... he wants to know when _we_ started."

"Mmm," Logan said, gently brushing some of Echo's curls out of her face. "Whatcha gonna tell him?"

"What should I tell him?" I asked, Looking back at Logan. 

Logan's face, Logan's smell, the way he touched me, the intensity of his love, his humor, his hate. They all did something to me. They'd always done something to me. I'd ignored it, I'd danced around it, I'd flirted with it. And I'd been dishonest, and disloyal to Scott. I'd never owned it. I never really had. That was on me.

"Logan..." I whispered. "I loved you the first week I met you. I mean... I was terrified of you. I couldn't get away from you fast enough, especially when you caught me while we were alone. And I hated you. I hated the way you made me feel because it ruined this whole illusion I had about who I was, what I had. I was a good girl, I was with a good boy. I was the shiny teacher's pet and I got all As and I was the role model for everyone, the loving public servant, the ever-faithful wife, but when you looked at me... when you spoke to me... you ruined it. You ruined me."

"Yeah, I know," Logan replied. "Jeannie, you gotta understand, bein' me. Smell, sound, they're like a second language. And you always said no, but the way your body reacted. Nearly goddamn killed me. It fucked with my head somethin' fierce and I always had to remind myself to listen to you. Your words. Else I woulda done a lot of things I would've regretted," he said quietly, eyes still settled on a sleeping Echo.

"You could smell me?" I said, finding this oddly humorous.

"God yes," Logan said, a glint of laughter in his eyes, "Your smell darlin'. Especially when you're aroused. You're worse than any drug, Jeannie. More intoxicatin' than anything I've ever had to drink."

"I wanted you to want me like that," I admitted. "I could feel when I set your mind on fire, and I liked it. I liked it way too much," I admitted.

"Yeah? Then how come you never let me get past second base 'til last month?" Logan asked, and we both laughed. Echo stirred in her sleep, and I quickly smothered my laughter with my hand.

"It was wrong," I said, sadness creeping into my voice. "The way I thought about you while I was married to Scott was wrong. I know that what he was doing was wrong too, but it doesn't make what I did right."

"Yer not the only guilty one," Logan replied, and I was surprised. "I knew you were a married woman, and hell...Scott's been my worst enemy but he's been my best friend too. You know how it is. I tried to respect yer marriage, but when he started messin' around... 'specially when he started ignorin' you. I used that to justify us bein' together, and I shouldn't have done that either."

We looked at each other silently.

"Shit. Can't believe you got me over here apologizin' to Scooter," Logan said, and we both laughed again. 

"Don't swear so much around Echo, Logan," I gently chided.

"She's asleep!" he protested quietly.

"Not for long if we keep talking," I replied. "And if you wake up this baby, you will feel my wrath," I promised.

"Joke's on you Jeannie, I like your wrath," he said, raising his eyebrows at me.

"Stop making me laugh!" I protested.

"Doesn't matter how much I gotta apologize for it," Logan said, "All those times we crossed the line...all those times we almost went too far.."

"Yeah I know, they were hot as hell, Logan," I said, grinning. "Still are."

"Damn straight Jeannie," Logan said grinning back.

"I like seeing you happy," I mused, feeling the warmth of sleep slowly start to creep over me.

"I dunno, it's strange to me. I ain't felt it in so long, I don't... I don't feel like I know what the hell I'm doin'. I don't wanna fuck this-- 'scuse me, mess this up."

We both went silent, and I felt... I felt something different happening in Logan's mind. Like he was working, memorizing.

"What are you doing?" I asked, blinking.

"Whattya mean?" he asked.

"Your...mind... you're...I don't know how to describe it," I said, confused.

"Oh, that," Logan said, voice a quiet rumble. "I'm just trying to remember."

"What?" I asked, knitting my brow.

"I keep a stash o' memories," he explained. "Ones I've tried hardest not to lose. Ones I can turn to when I've taken a lot a damage, or I'm goin' through a world o' pain. Things that keep me grounded, keep me stayin' alive. I wanted... I want this one."

I looked across at him. Resting next to me. I reached across and touched his forehead, lightly.

"What're you doin'?"

"There," I replied. "I made a safe box, for this moment. Your memory of this is safe. And I'll be damned if anyone knows how to get past my psychic defenses. "

"Swearin' around the baby?" Logan asked, eyebrow arched.

"Shut up Logan," I said, smiling.

"Not gonna mess this up, Jeannie," he repeated, face serious once again, as if saying it enough times would make it come true.

"I know, Logan," I said. I put a hand to his face, brushed his rough sideburn. Echo made a little whimper in her sleep and he kissed the side of her face, looked up at me with pain in his eyes. But I'd had enough reality for now. I just wanted to take this sweet slip of time I'd been given and hold on to it for dear life. The future could wait.

"Shh. Sleep, Logan," I said. "After all you're the best it is at what you do. You did this," I said, looking down at our daugher.

"I love you," Logan said to me, voice a rough whisper.

"I love you too," I said. 

In the warm cocoon, the three of us together for the first time slept. Maybe it wasn't a lasting peace, but, like Logan had said, it was a memory that once made couldn't be stolen. 


	17. DAY 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my beloved fans and lurkers. First of all happy belated Valentine's day. I have DELIVERED for you. Excuse me while I put on my Stefan voice... this chapter has EVERYTHING. Car crashes. Explosions. Sex. Drama. Kidnapping. Dirty Diapers. Meta fic. Wade Wilson. Britney Spears. MCU crossovers. Beer. So please, do what I do and completely ignore your real life responsibilities for half an hour and indulge. Seriously if you don't read this chapter, Coronavirus wins. Or something. Stay home from the pandemic, comic binge, and enjoy.

I was wide awake, and I was angry.

Specifically, I was staring at the two peaceful figures sound asleep next to me. Echo, on her stomach, her little butt the air, her nose whistling in and out with every breath, and Logan, who was sprawled out taking up approximately two-thirds of the bed and snoring like a buzzsaw.

"Logan," I whispered, and gave him a little jab. He gave a particularly monstrous snore and swatted my hand away.

"Logan!" I said in louder whisper, shaking his shoulder.

"M'I'll have a...scotch on the rocks hold the rocks," he muttered.

"Logan, I am not your cocktail waitress! Wake! Up!" I hissed.

Logan's eyes opened. Without moving his head he looked over at me, and grinned. "Mornin' Red," he said, voice hoarse from sleep. "Wouldn't believe the kinda dream I was having."

"I know exactly what kind of dreams you have," I replied, raising a knowing eyebrow. "Half of them are a bloodbath, the other half are X-rated, and all of them are a psychiatrist's worst nightmare. But that's not why I woke you up."

"Why'd ya wake me up then?" He asked sleepily, scratching his head, pulling out what looked like a demon tooth from his mass of hair, shrugging it and throwing it over the side of the bed. "Damn thing bit off more than it could chew," he muttered.

"Why did I wake you up? Are you kidding me right now?" I asked, eyes wide.

"I ain't kiddin' ya Jeannie," he said, looking innocent. As innocent as Logan could look; it wasn't all that innocent. "Listen, I'm not the psychic here, okay? What gives?"

"You are a man that can track the scent of somebody's sweaty socks from ten miles away with your enhanced senses and you can't smell _that_?" I asked, gesturing towards the the baby slumbering peacefully in between us.

Logan wrinkled his brow for a moment, then propped himself up on his elbow, eyes watering.

"Phew. Oh, man. That Echo?" he said, looking down at the innocent sleeping form in disbelief, as if he had trouble comprehending that such a demonic smell could come from such an angelic child.

"Well it's not me," I replied, leaning over the side of the bed and pulling up the diaper bag. "And I'm about eighty percent sure it's not you."

"Woke up a comedian, huh Jeannie? Hold on...where'd we get diapers from?" Logan asked, confused.

"Scott brought them," I answered tonelessly, glancing at Logan's face to catch his reaction. 

"Wait a minute," Logan said, rubbing his head sleepily again, jet black hair sticking out crazily in every direction, "Yer tellin' me that in the middle of a crazy battle with space demons where we were gettin' our asses handed to us, Slim remembers to pack a diaper bag?" he stared at me in disbelief, blue eyes wide.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," I replied, handing it to him.

"I'll be damned. Never thought I'd be sayin' this, but... the Boy Scout's all right sometimes."

"High praise from you, Logan. Make sure you tell that to Scott's face if we survive the next 24 hours," I said, sitting up and stretching. "Listen, in the meantime, I'm going to go take a shower."

"Wait... wait," Logan said quickly. "What about the... what about her...?" He asked, gesturing to Echo.

I paused and studied the expectant look on his face. "Logan, you remember that time you were drunk at the mansion and you wouldn't shut up about how you once beat Omega Red, with bone claws and without your healing factor?"

"Ya make it sound like that wasn't impressive," he replied, cocking one eyebrow.

"Yeah, well, if you could pull that off, I'm sure you can figure out how to change your daughter's diaper. There's wipes in there too. Before you ask me, yes, courtesy of Scott. Good luck, not that you'll need it I'm sure," I said with the hint of a smile on my lips. Humming to myself and smiling, I got up and left Logan speechless next to our beautiful, pungent daughter on the bed.

I took a long, hot shower. I could feel the tension of yesterday melting away. I of all people knew the nature of happiness. I knew that it was fleeting in general, and even more so this particular happiness I clung to now. There was an army after us, time was running short, but just for a moment, I let it feel right. The many lifetimes I'd lead, a part of me was always faking that little plastic slice of cheer. But now, even if it was only for a moment, I had exactly what I wanted. I'd had to die several times to get there, but I'd gotten there at last. And I would fight to keep it. I'd fight with everything I had.

I got dressed in the bathroom, twisted my damp hair in a towel turban and headed back towards the guest room. I heard Echo giggling and smiled to myself. Logan had barely met her, and they'd already bonded and were nearly inseparable. Despite all of Logan's own misgivings about fatherhood, I knew he had a good heart, and I knew that loving her and caring for her wasn't going to be the difficult part for him. And I couldn't lie, seeing them together melted me in a way I hadn't really predicted.

That was, until I heard Logan say, "Okay but don't let yer mom catch me or she'll kill me," and my smile turned to a frown.

I opened the door, standing in the doorway. Echo was sitting on Logan's lap, smiling. Logan was sitting looking up at me, conspicuously guilty.

"Dada!" Echo clapped enthusiastically. "Again! Again!"

"Yeah, ya know darlin'," he said, glancing at her and then at me. "But er, maybe another time."

"Again Dada!" Echo said, her face starting to get red. "Again! Again, now!"

I stood in the door frame, waiting, arms crossed. I wasn't going to say a word. I was just going to let this play out.

Echo gave the first little sob and Logan broke.

"Okay okay fine, don't start cryin' kiddo, Jesus," Logan said, and popped his claws with a familiar _SNIKT._

"Ahhhh!" Echo yelled happily, clapping her hands again, and Logan grinned. He stopped grinning when he saw my horrified face. His claws disappeared back into his forearm as quickly as they emerged.

"Logan, never in any universe did have I imagined myself saying these words, but... razor sharp claws are not appropriate toys for babies!"

"Aw c'mon, I know darlin'," Logan started, half apologetic, half amused.

"You know that saying Logan? It's all fun and game until someone loses an eye? Well she's gonna lose a whole limb if she wiggles! She should not be playing with those-- I mean, she should not even know those exist or what you use them for, for that matter until she's at least--"

"Er...excuse me dear," my mother's voice floated up from behind me, and stopped me mid-rant, as I whirled around, clutching my chest.

"Jesus! Mom! You scared me half to death," I said, taking a deep breath, staring at her wide-eyed.

"So sorry to bother you two," my mother began amiably, "but I just thought you ought to know... there's another guest waiting for you downstairs. You didn't tell me you were expecting anyone else, but then again, I know how you and your X-friends just tend to...drop in out of nowhere," my mother said, yawning and pulling her pink robe tighter around her chest. 

Logan and I looked at each other nervously. Echo patted Logan's fist and peered closely, clearly curious where the claws had gone, before trying to jam one of his knuckles into her mouth and gnawing.

"Did...did this person give a name? What exactly do they look like, mom?" I asked, trying to keep my voice from giving away my rising panic.

My mother gave a little half shrug, "Oh, I didn't catch his name exactly. But very, very flamboyant fellow. Wearing a large, sparkling cape. You've always had some very interesting acquaintances dear. Although maybe it's the style right now, I wouldn't know what you young people are up to these days."

Logan and I looked at each other again, and this time Logan looked deeply concerned. I returned the emotion wholeheartedly.

"I'll head down first Jeannie, you take the baby and stay behind," Logan instructed, suddenly all business, quickly handing Echo to me.

Pushing past my mother, who murmured a quiet, "Hmmph," and shuffled sleepily back towards her bedroom, we started down the stairs. My muscles tensed as we got closer to the bottom, fight or flight building up within me, but when we curved around the first corner of the staircase I saw...no one. Still tense, we padded all the way down to the landing.

"Oh! I sat him down in the parlor, dear," my mother called from the top of the stairs. "I got him some tea, told him it might be a bit of a wait."

Following Logan's lead, we walked towards the door leading to the parlor, and the minute he came into view my stomach dropped. There sat no one other than Nathaniel Essex himself. Logan lunged forward, covering myself and Echo. 

"Ya got five seconds to tell me why the hell you're here before I gut you," Logan growled, narrowing his eyes.

Sinister looked less than impressed. He was sitting on my mother's overstuffed loveseat with the floral pattern, legs crossed, sipping a cup of tea. Part of me realized I really should talk to my mom about inviting every damn person that came to her door from off the street for tea, but I'd have to wait on that and concentrate on surviving the in the present.

"Logan, really. Do you ever tire of your brutish machismo?" Sinister said, looking up from his tea. 

"Not really bub. Ya got four seconds," Logan replied. 

"All right, well, since you insist on rushing the matter," Sinister hissed with a smile, setting down his cup with a light clink and heaving a dramatic sigh. "I figured simply tearing this house to the ground, while tempting, would be much less fun and I might've lost my prize jewel of work there," he said, grinning at Echo.

"Don't talk about my child like that!" I snapped angrily, my mouth stumbling ahead of my brain.

"Oh Jean. Always so fiery. So fierce, so beautiful. It's a shame I can't spare you this time." He looked wanly at his cup of tea. "I was planning on enjoying this cup of English Breakfast, but I suppose I should cut to the chase. I actually came here to help you," he said, grinning again. "I know you think of me as quite the villain, but I came here to give you a head start. Specifically, I came here to let you know that we have a mercenary army headed your way and they should be here in approximately..." Sinister looked at his wristwatch. "Mmm...Three minutes and forty-five seconds."

I immediately closed my eyes and reached out with my mind. I could see them, feel them. He was telling the truth. 

"Logan," I said, eyes squeezed shut. "They're... they're not far. There's a lot of them...I count...twenty...forty men? Cars. They're traveling by vehicle...hummers, there's a tank."

My eyes flew open, panic rising in my chest. "Logan! We've got to get out of here, NOW! Right now!"

"You always were the sensible one of the pair," Sinister mused, putting his hands behind his head in a relaxed manner.

"I'll deal with you later Essex, this ain't over," Logan pointed at Sinister, grabbing my hand. "We gotta get to the car Jeannie."

The two of us, me holding Echo, ran out the front door, into the jarring sunlight and mundane suburbia of my front yard before we both came to a sudden stop. I looked around in desperation.

"Where's the car, Logan, the car?" I cried. "It's gone!

"Shit, that's right, Cyke took it when he left," Logan swore.

"Here, here, take Echo," I said hurriedly, handing off the toddler and rushing inside.

"Dad!" I called at the top of my lungs, running back toward the stairs. "Dad, dad I need your car keys! I need to borrow your car, please, right now!" The urgency was building in my mind as I could feel them getting closer, closer every second.

My father appeared in the doorway, in a pair of flannel pajamas, looking confused. "Sweetheart-- are you okay?"

"I need your car keys. Right now. I'll explain later, I promise!" I yelled at him, face flushed.

"Of-- of course dear," he said meekly, picking up a key ring from a small ceramic dish shaped like a roosting chicken sitting on the counter. "Do you mind just putting some gas it in when you're done?" he asked mildly.

"Go take mom, go upstairs, lock the doors and get under the bed! Don't move, don't come out until I say so!" I cried in response I ran out the door, as he blinked in confusion.

I tossed Logan the keys and he caught them midair in one hand.

"That one," I said, pointing to my father's car. "The green one!"

Logan ran forward, stopped, and turned to face me.

"Ya mean the Geo Metro?" He asked, eyebrow raised. "What year is it, 1996? Does that thing even run? Can we all fit in there?"

"Beggars can't be choosers Logan, just get in the damn car and drive it!" I yelled, snatching Echo back from him.

Logan hesitated only a moment more before taking action; he opened the driver's side door and I heard the old motor roar to life. It sputtered and my heart nearly stopped, then started again and I breathed a sigh of relief. I jumped in the back seat with Echo and Logan floored it.

We jerked forward and I held on tight to Echo as the car swerved.

"Sorry," Logan said. "This thing handles like a somebody strapped a brick to a rollerskate. Can't believe I'm makin' a getaway in a damn Geo Metro. No one's ever gonna let me live this down."

"Listen Logan, my dad is a history professor, not a Nascar driver, okay?" I said defensively. "Right now we need to concentrate on putting as much distance as we can between ourselves and my house. I can't let them hurt my parents."

"Listen darlin', I'm pedal to the metal right now but I'm gonna be surprised if this bucket o' bolts can crack seventy-five."

We sped down the street, relatively speaking, the car careening at every turn. 

"Oh god...I can see them!" I said. I turned around and looked out the back window. There was a cloud of dust in the distance and I could hear the thrum of engines and dull roar as they approached. I was trying to assess their tactical response, what kind of weaponry they had, but between Echo grabbing my hair, the car swerving wildly and my general panic and nausea at Logan's driving I had trouble concentrating. "What's the plan Logan?" I called to the front seat.

"Hell if I know, Jeannie-- stay alive? Get us outta this neighborhood and outta the city? You got any good ideas?" Logan asked, narrowly avoiding hitting a mailbox, and my startled neighbor, who threw the mail in the air and fell backwards onto his lawn.

"I don't. Just keep driving while I figure it out. Head North, it'll take us out of the city, at least, so we minimize civilian casualties. Dammit. At this point we're gonna need a miracle," I said desperately, holding Echo close to me.

No sooner had the words come out of my mouth, there appeared a sudden dark shadow above me and a noisy crash as the glass from the back window shattered. I reflexively threw my arms up around my head in self-defense to shield myself from the shower of glass as Echo huddled in the safety of my lap.

"What in the hell?" I heard Logan yell from the front seat. I lifted my head up, arms still shaking, and next to me was sitting someone I recognized all too well.

"WADE?" I asked, eyes wide, clutching Echo to me. There in a pile of broken glass on the back seat next me sat Deadpool himself with a very large burlap sack beside him. "What in the... what on earth are you doing here? How did you get here?"

"I thought I heard somebody call for a miracle," Deadpool said casually, carefully brushing shards of safety glass off his shoulders. "And that's what I do. I grant people miracles. Even if those assholes at Make-A-Wish fired me after I stole a bottlenose from Sea World. You tell a little kid dying of cancer he can't meet Flipper."

"What is that fuckin' psycho doing in our car?" Logan yelled, swerving to miss a man standing near the curb who dropped his bag of groceries.

"FUCKIN' PSYCHO!" Echo squealed, clapping.

"Oh ho! Well well. Is this your famous little crotchfruit, Logan? Look at her! A wee little tot and already swearing at a fourth grade level! You must be so proud. I love her already," Wade said, reaching down to pat Echo on the head as I snatched her violently away from him.

"I didn't just show up by the way, I've been here," he continued as if we were all having a leisurely brunch together. "I followed you guys here. I was watching you sleep last night."

"WHAT?" I snapped at him, hair whipping in the wind now that we had effectively no back windshield. I was glad my father wasn't here to see his beloved Geo's downfall.

"Yeah. By the way, co-sleeping? That's a no no. Children under a year of age need a flat surface free of stuffed animals or blankets. I learned that once when I killed a pediatrician."

"Why did you kill a pediatrician?" I asked, regretting the words the second they left my mouth.

"Uh... because... they were evil. They were turning evil. Okay I killed the wrong person, I felt really super bad about it afterwards. Listen, you guys look like you could use some help."

"YES, Wade ya got any weapons in the bag?" Logan yelled from the front seat. "We got an army comin' up on our tail any second now."

"OH RIGHT, the bag! The bag, the bag, the bag," Wade said, quickly digging his hands into it. "Listen I didn't have a lot of time so I just picked up whatever I could find, just a little something something here and there." He reached into it.

"Ugh, gym socks," he said, pulling a pair of slightly browned, stiff socks from inside. "Stapler." he threw it out the window. There was a crinkling sound and he pulled out a crumpled sheaf of papers.

"Ohhh! Look! I forgot I put this in here! It's a fanfic I wrote about you guys! The first part is all kissing and romance. Then the next three pages is mostly just Cyclops jerking off and crying. I put a lot of detail into it. And I mean a LOT of detail."

"Aaahh!!" I cried, as a bullet whizzed by my head and shrunk down into the backseat covering Echo. The roar of engines was deafening now, they were right behind us.  
  
"WEAPONS, WADE! YA GOT ANY GODDAMN WEAPONS IN THERE?" Logan roared, turning a corner and nearly rolling us. 

"Uh...well, there's this. Does this count?" Deadpool responded, pulling out a bazooka. 

"DON'T JUST KEEP FLAPPIN' YER DAMN JAW, USE IT!" Logan yelled.

"Okay Mr. Bossy Pants," Wade said, whistling to himself as he loaded the weapon, leaned out the window and fired. The recoil made the car swerve so hard I almost lost my lunch. For one precarious second Echo was out of my arms, heading towards the floorboards, but I caught her just in time. Lucky for me, she seemed completely unaware she was in a near death experience, and seemed to think we were on some sort of fun carnival ride. I heard an explosion and a burst of flame lit up the side window, with a plume of smoke momentarily enveloping the car.

"Now we're talkin'," Logan said, "What else ya got back there?"

"Let's see," Deadpool said, digging in the sack. "Got some grenades," he said, pulling the pins and tossing them out the window. 

"Oh, look, C4 and dynamite. That's pretty good at exploding people, if I recall correctly. Yep. Says so on the label," he said, leaning halfway out the window as there was an explosion that rocked the car.

He reached back in the bag and pulled out a small, rectangular cassette tape. 

"What's that?" I asked, still hunched over cradling echo.

"What does it look like Jean? It's an original 1998 cassette version of Britney Spears' ...'Baby One More Time," he said, taking a roll of duct tape and taping it to what appeared to be a large beeping device that look liked an awful lot like a live bomb. He leaned out the window, hurling the tape behind him. "IT'S BRITNEY BITCH!" he yelled. The resulting explosion pushed the little Geo back and forth and the only sound was a dull roar and Logan's swearing as he tried to keep us from rolling.

As the noise from the explosion died down, over the din and the wind rushing in through the car, I thought I heard something else.

"Do you hear something?" I called, yelling against the wind rushing in the broken windshield.

"Was is the sound of Justin Timberlake apologizing?" Deadpool asked, crossing his arms vindictively. "Because that's what we should be hearing."

"No... no... I...don't you hear that?" I tilted my head. "It's coming from that sack. Wade, do you have a live animal or something in there?" I asked, perturbed, moving my head closer to the bag. Cautiously, not wanting to get bitten or scratched, I carefully reached into the burlap sack and felt whatever it was that was making the noise.

"Hey! Put that back, it's mine!" Wade said angrily.

Ignoring him, I pulled out what I at first thought was some kind of toy action figure. Only it was kicking its legs. And moving its arms. And yelling something at me, frantically.

"Wait," I said, holding up the tiny flailing figure and squinting my eyes, trying no to drop it as the car weaved and bucked "Is...is...is that?" 

In a sudden flash, the little figure enlarged until it had shoved both me and Wade to opposite ends of the backseat. And there, in full gear, sat Ant Man.

"OH THANK GOD!" He said, looking at me, eyes wide with fear and relief, sweat pouring down his face. "OH thank God you got me out of there! I thought I was going to die! He kidnapped me! That nutcase kidnapped me, put me in the sack- which smells like BO by the way-- and then he-- he forced me to listen to him read for an hour. Some story about Cyclops beating off and crying. Oh my dear god it was the worst thing I've ever been through and I--" he stopped suddenly and looked around.

"Uh...can...someone tell me why Wolverine is driving us around like a crazy man in some 90s junk pile?" he asked, looking back and forth suspiciously between myself and Wade as the car swerved again and he nearly ended up in my lap.

"Hey, if ain't my favorite Scott," Logan called back from the driver's seat. "Listen I'm glad yer here. We're gonna need a solid. We're bein' trailed by a mercenary army right now and they're out for blood. Can you get ahold of the rest of the Avengers, get us some help here?"

"Honestly, anything to get me the hell away from him," Scott replied, pointing at Deadpool, sticking a finger right in his face. "You. You are a sick, sick man. Don't ever come near me or my family ever again."

"Wow. Okay. Are we really going to do this?" Wade said. "Because you know who the real monster is?" he said, not waiting for a reply. "People that kink shame. Those are the real monsters. Just because I enjoy the humiliation of Scott Summers does not make me a bad person. It's actually a very popular genre. I mean, just ask Jean."

"Excuse me?" I said indignantly.

"Uh," Ant Man said, looking uncomfortable, falling against me again as the car made a hard left. "Listen Logan, I gotta get out of here before I either kill this guy or myself. I'm gonna shrink and jump, and see what I can do to stop 'em. I'll radio the rest of the crew too, get the Avengers on this as soon as I can."

"Much obliged Lang," Logan called, and in a heartbeat, Ant Man had shrunk back down to the size of a peanut and launched himself out the window.

"The NERVE of him," Deadpool said. "So rude. Just... I'm shaking right now. Do you see my hand? Shaking!"

"Wade, do you have any more living...people in that bag?" I asked him accusingly, trying to keep my hair out of my face with all this wind.

"No! It was just Ant Man, okay. Look, I'll show you what's in here," he said, pulling out the rest of the contents and putting it on the seat between us.

"Wait," I said, as he pulled a very familiar, albeit bloodstained, green and yellow outfit.

"What are you doing with my Phoenix uniform?" I demanded.

Wade stared at me as if I was an idiot. "I told you earlier," he said. "I've taken it to every dry cleaner's in town, they can't get those damn stubborn bloodstai-"

"No, no, WHY do you have this?" I insisted. It was like looking at a ghost from the past.

"Wade--" Logan started from the front seat, but Deadpool cut him off.

"Oh, THAT! Yeah that was just from the time that Logan dressed me up as you so that robot would kill me, you know, thinking it was you."

"And...what time was that, exactly?" I asked skeptically.

"Shut yer damn mouth Wade," Logan called from the front seat.

"Oh that's cute. You're embarrassed, aren't you Logan!" Wade said, batting his eyelashes. He grabbed another grenade, and leaned out the window, throwing it, and the car rocked with the explosion.

"I'm warnin' ya--" Logan called.

"I mean, this is nothing to be ashamed about Wolverine," he called back through the window. "If anything, she'd be a little freaked out that you built a giant statue of her and then talked to it like it was real for over a year. Or that he kept a lock of your hair on his dresser--whoooaaaahhhh!"

Logan jammed the steering wheel to the right the car did a full 360, as Deadpool flew out the window, rolling to a stop a few yards down.

"LOGAN! You nearly KILLED US!" I yelled at him angrily.

"Nah, it's okay Jeannie, I knew what I was doin'," Logan said in that insufferably self-assured way of his.

I was about to argue, when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I turned towards the broken out window, the wind in my face, whipping my hair, and broke out into a smile.

"Lucky for you," I said acidly. "We can talk about it later. The cavalry is here." I called. I could see the Avengers. Hulk was throwing cars from the motorcade, and Captain America shield whizzed by shooting off a shower of sparks as it clanked against one of the metal hummers. I could hear bullets flying and general chaos of the battle right behind us.

"Oh thank God," I said, cradling Echo in my lap, breathing a sigh of relief. 

<Hey guys. Incoming. Wolverine do me a favor and don't make any sharp turns for a sec> I heard in my head. I looked up, and Tony Stark was slowing in the air, lowering himself through the broken out back window. I scooted to the side to make room for him. 

He sat down in the back seat next to us, visor popping up.

"Well, hey you two crazy kids. How have you been doing? Oh and who is this beautiful little lady?" he asked, Looking at Echo, who was drooling excitedly.

"FUCKING PSYCHO!" She screamed.

"Ah, I see. Logan, congratulations I'm assuming she's yours," Tony said without missing a beat.

"Up yours, Stark. And thanks for comin'" Logan barked from the front seat. "What's it look like out there?"

"Well, depends," he said. "Do you guys want the good news first or the bad news?"

"Hit me with the good news Tony, it's been a day," Logan called from the front seat.

"The good news is, I've got a plan for you. If Jean doesn't mind, I'm going to let her do a telepathic data transfer. They're directions towards the coast. We've alerted Shadowcat, who was nearby, and she's diverted the Marauders to intercept you, if you can make it to the dock. You're not far, at all. Doesn't look like these guys have any water capabilities so you should be safe once you're on board. Plus, they're well armed."

"I'm glad somebody's got a plan," I said, relief washing over me. "What's the bad news?"

"The bad news is they know they're losing and they're about to throw some tire spikes. Bad news is Logan is about to loose his prized Geo, and once that happens it'll be a war on foot until you hit the docks. And I don't know buddy. You're gonna have to look at some bottom basement dealerships to replace this beauty."

"Shaddup about the car, Stark," Logan groaned. "Jeannie, can you jot down whatever he tells you, make a rudimentary map just in case we get separated?"

Tony picked up the crumpled mass of scribbled notes next to him. "Sure. Here's a piece of paper," he said, taking a moment to look more closely at it. Then he stared it at, transfixed.

"Wow... what is... hey, you write this Logan?" he asked.

"Write what?" Logan called from the front seat.

"No, no, that's Deadpool's," I said embarrassment washing over me. "You shouldn't read that. Don't mind that. That's not anything."

Tony read aloud, "Sapphire tears dripped from his eyes. Noooo, he howled, his optic beam piercing the night as he..." He looked up. "What exactly is a gargantuan pulsing meat stick? Is that what I think it is? And...why is everything spelled wrong? Why does this look like it was written by a first grader?"

"Please... please take it and burn it," I begged him, as he raised his eyebrows at me. 

"Listen Jean," he said, "You know me. I'm hardly one to judge what two adult consensual adults enjoy but this is a lot. It's a lot. I have the number of a good couples therapist if you guys are interested."

"Just give me the coordinates please, Tony," I whispered, face burning. "And lets never speak of this again."

Putting my hand to his wrist interface, I absorbed the electronic map. Feeling something like a human Google map, I opened my mind to Logan and relayed the information so he could follow along as well.

"All right," Iron Man said. "So listen. I've got to go back to kicking ass and taking names, I've got a cocktail party at five o clock I don't wanna miss. Have you ever had an Adios Motherfucker before? No? Looks like Windex but tastes like a blackout Anyhow, it was a pleasure to see you as always Jean. Logan...good luck to you man. Remember that counselor, you say the word I make the call," Tony said as his visor popped back into place, and Iron Man shot out of the back seat of my father's poor ruined Geo.

"We're really close," Logan said, turning right. We were already farther away from the city, the scenery was mostly just rocky cliffs and fields of dry grass. I could see a sign for the docks up ahead.

There was a sudden loud thump, and the car leaped, jarring myself and Echo out of our seats and back down again and a hissing sound.

"SHIT. They got the tires." Logan said as the car rolled to a stop. I looked behind us fearfully. There was only one hummer left, the Avengers and Deadpool had taken care of the rest and were just a cloud of dust on the horizon by now, but the vehicle behind us screeched to a halt as our car slowed down and seven men, armed to the teeth, leapt out and started advancing towards us.

"Let me go first, you keep her safe," Logan said, glancing back at Echo and pulling his cowl over his face. I threw up a psi-shield around myself and Echo as Logan exited the car. He was immediately welcomed by a hail of bullets that threw him back four to five feet. He landed flat on his back, motionless.

"Logan!" I called instinctively, before slapping a hand over my own mouth. My breath stopped for a moment as he lay there bleeding, and the armed mercenaries, dressed in camo, loaded up with heavy weaponry, advanced on his body

"Target is down," one of the men, who looked like he was leading the squad, called out into his tactical headset. "Approaching Target. Extreme caution is advised. Over."

I held Echo against me, stock-still in the car, hoping they wouldn't notice us. She was huddled against my chest, staring up at my face. My mind was racing. I could fight; I could fight as well as Logan could, but not with a child in my arms. I wasn't sure how I could split my offense and defense, if it came down to it and I was alone. As an X-Man, I'd been trained in subject extraction, but in Danger Room exercises and even in real life situations, it was always a stranger. I was always emotionally distant, able to work, do my job. This was different, so different, with my own child.

The men approached Logan, and I could see the leader shoulder his rifle for the kill shot. 

My hear stopped as he pulled the trigger, and--

RRRRRAAAWWWWWWWWWWWGHHH

Even though I'd been expecting it, I nearly jumped out of my skin at the noise. A startled Echo began crying and I hushed her.   
  
Wolverine moved so fast he was a blur, all blood, all savage grace and blades as I put my hands over Echo's eyes as she squirmed in my lap. The original man who'd tried to shoot him was standing there, still and silent; so I thought, until his neck slid sideway, and his head toppled onto the ground, his body following. Logan took two more of the men down, gutting one and growling as the other shot him, yelling in fear and trying to scramble away as he fired. Logan swung one arm from the disembowelment in an arc, slicing the second man's weapon in half, followed by a shoulder that knocked the second man down and three claws through the throat, in and out and done. Another went down just as fast, just as bloody. It was horrible to watch, but mesmerizing. Echo fussed and grabbed at the hand I had covering her eyes but there was no way in hell I was going to let her witness any of this.

Wolverine immediately leapt up off the second corpse and went straight for the remaining three men who were running back to the vehicle as fast as they could. He cut the first one chin to navel, the blood spray hitting the other soldier, who screamed and dropped his weapon. His scream was cut short as he lost his mouth, teeth, and anything resembling a face. Logan whipped his head around making sure the coast was clear, and in a moment that chilled me to my very bones, I saw the grin on his face. His costume was covered in blood, soaked in it, but his teeth shone white. He approached the last soldier, lying on the ground, crying and holding his hands up. 

He popped his claws, taking his time, stalking closer to the body as the man shut his eyes and began to plead for his life. I couldn't watch this. It was too hard. I had to do something. 

_Logan,_ I said in his head, sharply.

Wolverine cocked his head to the side suddenly, as if he'd heard a noise. He looked momentarily confused.

_Disarm don't kill, he's pleading for his life dammit, he just looks like a kid,_ I said into his head, begging him. Logan shook his head, confused at sound and noises that were coming from inside, not outside, before turning his attention back to the man on the ground. He sniffed him, wrinkled his nose in distaste. Finally he grabbed him by the collar and...to my surprise, began to drag him towards our car. It was my turn to be confused. Logan was still clearly feral, I could see his thoughts, just the periphery and it was a mixture of sight, sound, bloodlust and adrenaline. No human thoughts and definitely no words. Yet he was coming back towards the car, dragging this man behind him. I didn't know whether to be terrified, thankful that we were alive, or relieved that he hadn't murdered a whimpering man within ten feet of our daughter. 

He dragged the man and dropped him near the back door. Then he squatted next to him and waited.

I had to think fast. I put Echo behind me, put the seatbelt over her, not that it did much damn good, and we hadn't exactly had time to stop at a Babys'R'Us for a carseat in the middle of this cluster.

I carefully opened the door. 

Wolverine looked up at me, eyes black, acknowledging me in an oddly primal way.

It's a gift, I realized.

_Logan,_ I said again, gently this time, touching his mind as I would a skittish animal. He stared at me, still with that same dark, impenetrable expression. 

Echo was still crying in the seat behind me, and I reached back to pick her up and soothe her as Logan moved forward, sniffing.

And then, there was the light in his eyes. He was back. He was there, Logan the man. 

"Hey," I said softly to him, still cautious.

Logan looked at me, looked at Echo. He held out his hands.

It was a moment of ultimate trust. I loved Logan, I did, but what I felt for Echo went beyond the logical and into the instinctual. Still, at every point in life you have to choose; play it safe, or take the leap of faith. I had faith in him. I had faith in us. 

I handed him Echo and she settled into his arms. He held her, dripping in blood, looking down at her face as she looked back at him.

"Thanks for bringing me someone to interrogate," I said, gesturing to the man lying flat on the ground, white as a sheet.

"Think nothin' of it," Logan responded gruffly.

I touched my fingertips to the forehead of the man in wearing camouflage on the ground in front of me. "This won't hurt... much," I said, reassuringly. 

I closed my eyes and concentrated. Whenever I extracted information from people, it was an invasion of privacy. I understood that. I tried my best to stay focused on what it was I was trying to find and to avoid the other, personal memories. 

"He doesn't know much Logan," I said. "He was hired. Sinister wasn't lying. They were all mercenaries, this was just a job. Not a job worth dying for, that much he knows that for sure."

I touched him briefly on the forehead again and he closed his eyes, lapsing into what looked like sleep.

"You mind wipe 'im?" Logan asked, still holding Echo in one burly arm, pushing his cowl back away from his face.

"Not everything," I replied. "Just today. He won't know who either of us are, or why he's here. But he'll know his own name, his address."

"Got a kind heart Jeannie," Logan replied. "Just hope it doesn't come back to bite us in the ass."

"LOGAN! HEY, LOGAN!" We heard a voice in the distance and I saw a figure running towards it.

"Kitten!" Logan said with a smile. "Hey. Nice duds there kid."

"Its actually Kate now," Shadowcat said smiling, waving at me. She was dressed quite dandily in a sailor's coat and trousers. I had to admit; it was quite a look, but she made it work. "And I'm hardly a kid anymore. Jean. Hey, I heard you guys were having kind of a shit day, that true?"

"You don't know the half of it," I sighed, stepping out of the car, trying to avoid the worst of the bloodstains and broken glass.

"Well, you've come to the right place. Welcome to the jewel of the seas," she said, motioning, and the two of us looked up for the first time and saw her massive, beautiful ship. I was momentarily starstruck.

"Amazing, isn't she?" Kitty asked with pride.

"It really is," I responded in awe.

"Please tell me you got beer on that tub," Logan said.

"Oh, we do. You don't even know the half of it, mister," Shadowcat replied. It was the second time that day I saw Logan's face light up.

We boarded the ship together. It was massive, and had a full crew. After we'd cleaned up, eaten, fed the baby and had a few beers, Kate gave us a quick tour of her ship in all its magnificence before escorting us to our quarters. It was a full room with a bed, a cot for Echo, furniture; simply put, it was luxury.

Echo had already fallen asleep, and I put her down carefully in a bassinet Kitty had prepared. 

I collapsed into the soft, king sized-bed with satin sheets.

"Kitty-- I, ah--Kate, sure does know how to treat her guests," I sighed, stretching out. "Oh god Logan. I'm exhausted."

"Yeah, I'm pretty beat," he said, stripping off his t-shirt as his weight made the bedframe groan.

There was a pause.

"Hey um... Logan. Do you wanna--" I asked, and before I could finish my sentence, he was on top of me.

"Guess that answers my question," I said, laughing. "Ahh... yeah...what is it about near death experiences that..?"

"Turns ya on? Dunno darlin', but I ain't complainin'," he responded, pinning both hands above my head, mouth on my neck.

I arched up towards him, shoving his boxers down with my knees and feet.

"Damn Jeannie, slow down," Logan said, a humorous glint in his eye.

"Shut up and show me you're the best you are at what you... oh, that," I said, eyes closing as he pushed himself inside me. I grabbed his face by the sideburns, pulling him down to kiss me, letting him move, letting him control the pace. He moved one hand down my back, grabbing my ass, pulling me tighter against him.

"Unh...yeah," I whispered in his ear. "I want you to--"

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

The high wail cut through the the intimacy and Logan froze, grimacing like someone had just sounded an air raid siren directly into his ear. He glanced down at me, wincing.

"Ah, don't look at me like that, Jeannie," he pleaded, pained.

"Like what?" I asked, wide eyed, and with no intention whatsoever of having to leave the warmth of the bed.

"Goddamnit," Logan grumbled, rolling off me, grabbing his sweatpants, pulling them on, and walking over to the little bassinet where the wailing was emanating from with a piercing quality.

"What's wrong kid?" Logan asked, but she only shrieked louder.

"Jeannie hey, I dunno what's the matter with her," Logan called to me, as if I magically had the answer to why babies did anything they did.

"Pick her up Logan," I urged, warm under the covers. "Hold her."

Logan picked her up and held the screaming child about a foot from his face, "What's wrong darlin'? Ya hungry? Gassy? Tired? If you're tired you could go back to sleep and let yer mom and I catch up like we were tryin' to do," he said hopefully.

"Maybe she doesn't like the rocking of the boat Logan, maybe she's a little seasick," I offered.

"You kiddin' me Jeannie?" he scoffed. "She took that car chase like a champ. No way she's--"

_Uuuuuuhhlllp._

Echo vomited most of her dinner, which had been mashed up pears and mashed up peas courtesy of Shadowcat's amazing chef and kitchen, all over Logan's chest. Immediately after she threw up, she started giggling.

"Hungry!" she said to Logan. "Dada! Hungry!"

"No shit kid, you just loaned me your dinner," Logan growled, looking distastefully at the baby puke. 

"There's goldfish crackers and juice in the cupboard," I called helpfully.

Logan sighed, grabbing a towel and wiping the worst of the mess off of him, then tossing the towel in the corner.

"Do you...need any help, Logan?" I asked, feeling just the tiniest twinge of guilt watching him managed a cranky baby after a long exhausting day of car chases and murder. Just a twinge. It vanished quickly.

"No! Would Cyke need help in this kinda situation? Probably not, neither do I," he growled stubbornly.

I stifled a laugh as Wolverine stomped over to the wooden cupboard, holding the now quite pleased Echo to sort out goldfish and juice.

Listening to her crunching, I fell asleep, and into a sea of turbulent dreams.


End file.
